Through the Eyes of a Martyr
by alightinthedark89
Summary: Sequel to Through the Eyes of a Journalist. The Riddler is wreaking havoc with his riddles and robberies for Gotham especially for Bruce and Sylvia. It doesn't help that Joker's fascination with her is still strong along with Harvey's determination for revenge. How long will those two remain in Arkham? And will Bruce and Sylvia learn to depend on one another?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: First off... HAPPY NEW YEAR! Hope it's an epic one for all of you. **

**Another note, this chapter takes place right where the Epilogue from Through the Eyes of a Journalist ends. Hope you enjoy! I'll try and put up the next chapter tomorrow. Tell me what you think about it in a REVIEW!**

"Written on the back of that paper was a riddle," he finished.

"A riddle," Sylvia asked observing the paper.

"Yup and ever since then we've been getting them. Each one different each one never cracked. They were never taken seriously. That is until the robberies started happening. The scenes always clean and always just one object taken. It wasn't until Batman put the puzzle together explaining to me that if we would have figured out the riddles we would have known what was going to be stolen, when and where."

"So the man leaving the riddles is the same man committing the robberies," Sylvia mumbled looking down at the new riddle.

"Yes, and the last riddle led us here just in time for Wayne's charity party," Gordon said, "and now this one, I just don't understand."

"The TOOL is a LIGHT that is as DARK as its ALIAS." was all that was typed in black ink.

Sylvia looked down at the riddle dumbfounded. How was a light dark? And how could it be a tool?

"It doesn't make any sense," she said her hand coming up to rub the back of her neck.

"They never do," Gordon confessed looking just as puzzled as her.

"If I may," Alfred spoke up at last taking the piece of evidence from Sylvia. Alfred's brows creased together as he read the riddle. It was very peculiar.

"Commissioner Gordon," Detective Murphy had just stepped out of the lift.

"Over here," Gordon said excusing himself to bring the detective up to speed.

"What do you think Alfred," Sylvia asked taking the riddle back from him.

"Well the tool could very well be the instrument we're going to need to read the next riddle," he said looking thoughtful.

Sylvia smiled at him in wonderment.

"Of course," Sylvia said, "That's what he wants. He wants us to solve his riddles. The light…"

Sylvia looked down at the riddle. A light bulb (no pun intended) lit up in her mind.

"So then it's a light that we use to see the riddle," Sylvia said.

"But the light is as dark as its nature," a raspy voice said from near the balcony.

The Batman stood by the curtain waiting for the elevator doors to slide closed with Detective Murphy standing inside it.

"Oh well look who decided to join the party," Sylvia staring at Batman while Gordon came to stand with them once again.

"Sylvia I really think-" Gordon halted his speech however when he saw who had joined them, "Nice of you to come."

"Commissioner," he rasped taking a step into the penthouse.

"Alfred and I think we might have this riddle," Sylvia said bringing attention back to the puzzle.

"Really?" Gordon asked waiting to hear the answer.

"The light is the tool that we use to see the next part of the riddle," Sylvia revealed.

"The light is as dark as its alias," Batman repeated stopping their train in its tracks.

"So then maybe we see the riddle in the dark," Sylvia said agitated.

"The tool isn't a flashlight," Batman argued.

"Well then night vision," Sylvia argued back turning to Gordon.

"Well there are two types of night vision, one scope using infrared light and the other thermal imaging," he said everyone thinking hard at this new information.

Sylvia shook her head when she repeated the last part of the riddle to herself.

"It's neither of those. None of those names have anything to do with 'dark'," she sighed in frustration. That is… "Wait a second." Could it really be that simple?

"It's a black light," she said. The other three looked skeptical but Batman didn't say anything. "You know, black lights. They use them at clubs and raves. Investigators use them to see stuff they couldn't see with normal lighting? They're used in the dark, the name of it is black light. The light is as dark as its alias. Alias is another word for name."

Gordon grabbed his radio from his side and began to speak into it.

"Murphy," he called into it.

"Yes, sir," he got as a response almost instantly.

"I need you to bring a black light up here, now please," he said.

"Right away, sir," Murphy answered back.

An exhilarating feeling seemed to surround Sylvia again. She felt like a reporter again. It almost brought a tear to her eye, but she knew that right now was not the time.

Shortly, Murphy came with a black light and handed it to Gordon. Murphy either didn't notice Batman which was impossible or chose to ignore him.

"So the question now is where do we look," Gordon said looking around the huge penthouse. "This place is pretty big."

"Well we can rule out the kitchen, dining room, and Bruce's bedroom because all were sectioned off. The only person allowed in the kitchen is Alfred usually," Sylvia said.

"That is still a big range Sylvia," Gordon told her.

"I'm sure someone would have noticed that someone was drawing something on the wall or anything else," Sylvia tried and Batman seemed to be on the same trail of thinking.

"The person needed to find a way to leave the riddle in a way that would not call for attention," he elaborated. The two of them always seemed to come to the same page.

"Exactly," Sylvia breathed taking the light from Gordon. "Going dark!" she shouted as a warning.

"Whoa, whoa," Gordon shouted back running to her before she could flip the switch.

"What?" she asked looking confused as Gordon tried to take the light from her.

"I'm sure we would all feel much more comfortable if you left now Sylvia," Gordon said trying not to make her upset, but he could see that it wasn't working. "We don't know what will happen when you shut off those lights, Vee."

"Oh, please-" she began but didn't get to finish.

"The Commissioner is right Ms. Juarez," Batman said stepping further into the room.

"Oh don't you Ms. Juarez me," Sylvia said through clenched teeth.

"Sylvia," Gordon tried but Sylvia lost her temper.

"No damn it! I'm going to figure this out!" she shouted instantly silencing the arguments around her.

Before anything more could be said the lights were off and the black light turned on.

For a few minutes the four men including Murphy, stood by and watched her look along the walls. It wasn't until she began asking for a ladder to reach higher above the walls that Batman spoke.

"You don't need a ladder," he spoke coming forward to Sylvia.

"Oh?" Sylvia asked not turning toward him but still focusing on her search.

"It's like you said Ms. Juarez, the man couldn't have done anything too suspicious and that includes drawing higher up the wall," he said simply his voice the same gravelly tone.

Sylvia stopped her movements and thought about it. He was right. She had forgotten her own clue because of her focus on finding the next puzzle…and her anger.

"Okay then Mr. Smart guy, where would you look?" she questioned.

Batman took the light from her, his Kevlar covered hands brushing hers and walked away. Sylvia loved that suit. It gave him this aura of mysteriousness that was just too overwhelming to ignore. Even to her, who knew who he was, the suit was still a turn on…

There! In her once again desire induced thoughts, Sylvia failed to notice what exactly Batman was doing. He had been walking back and forth over the dance floor and found a letter that reflected brightly under the influence of the black light.

"He had the stuff under his shoes," he said looking over at Sylvia who looked positively elated.

"Brilliant," she said softly coming to stand next to him. Her previous thoughts gone.

Eventually the riddle was copied down onto paper and read aloud by Gordon.

"I was framed, but there was no crime committed by neither I or the framer…how is this possible?

Have fun driving home this one.

Go Van!," Gordon read looking up as he finished.

"That's it," Sylvia spoke looking miserable.

"Afraid so," Gordon said followed by a heavy sigh.

"Oh this is ridiculous," Sylvia groaned.

"Take it in pieces," Alfred suggested.

Gordon nodded and began once more, "I was framed, but there was no crime committed by neither I-"

"Stop there," Batman spoke, "'I was framed', it's a picture."

"No," Sylvia said, "it's a painting. Those people from the museum were here. They said that a new exhibit was going to be opening tomorrow."

"She's right," Batman said while the others allowed the information to sink in.

"Which painting?" Detective Murphy spoke up this time.

"Well that's the question isn't it?" Sylvia said before looking to Gordon to read the rest.

"Have fun driving home this one. Go van!" he read.

"He'll be using a van to move the painting," Murphy offered.

"Under a disguise most likely," Sylvia said agreeing with Murphy.

"He could be but I think he's trying to tell us something else," Batman said concentrating on his spinning theories.

"Detective Murphy," came a voice through the radio.

Murphy quickly picked it up and spoke, "This is Murphy."

"An object has been reported missing," said the officer, "A gold plated pocket watch-"

The group looked to each other all wondering the same thing.

"-belonging to a guest that was at Mr. Wayne's," the officer continued, "he says he works for the museum."

"We should probably find that watch," Gordon said. The group split up looking around the area. Batman staying close to Sylvia.

"Oh by the way, I really appreciate you keeping me in the loop," Sylvia whispered to him. Fake gratitude dripping from every word.

"I didn't want to worry you," he whispered back.

"Worry me?" Sylvia snapped quietly. "And me finding out this way is better, how?"

"I found it," Murphy called out interrupting Batman from anything he was going to say.

The four, minus Alfred who had gone to the kitchen to begin 'cleaning up', gathered together as Murphy held out another note.

"This was folded inside," he said holding out the grey paper.

"What word can be written forward, backward or upside down, and can still be ready from left to right," Gordon read.

The other three listened intently thinking hard.

"It's obviously a time," Sylvia pointed out.

"Explains the watch," Batman said.

"And it's a word not numbers," Gordon put in.

"Right," Sylvia replied sending Gordon a smile.

"It's noon," Murphy said, "If you write in all capital letters," he continued taking out a pen and notepad and scribbling the word down. "See."

He lifted the paper to show the others, 'NOON'.

"How is he planning to steal a painting in broad daylight," Sylvia asked confused.

"I don't know, but I think it's safe to assume he'll do it tomorrow," Murphy replied to her before he walked off to tell the officers the new developments.

"Alright, Sylvia it's time to go," Gordon told her.

He was ready to put up a fight but Sylvia's response stopped him in his tracks.

"I think you're right."

She walked to a table at the far end of the room to pick up her purse and then turned to Gordon.

"Ready?" she asked him.

Murphy was standing by the elevator waiting for it.

"Yeah, get downstairs I'll be there in a sec," he told her. She nodded and went to the now open elevator, Murphy holding it for her.

She smiled to him gratefully before the doors sealed and it began to descend.

"I'm sorry," Gordon told Batman sincerely, "I thought she had known about the thief."

"No apology needed Commissioner," Batman assured him.

"I was just really surprised when she had no idea…" Gordon turned around to find Batman gone. The Commissioner sighed and walked to the elevator.

**A/N: Please, please, pretty please review! It'll brighten my new year :P**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Here is chapter two :D Hope you enjoy! And thank you to all those who favorited, reviewed and alerted this fic it really means a lot. THANK YOU!**

It was only two in the morning when Sylvia's cell phone began to ring. She had only been sleeping for an hour. It was Gordon. Sylvia cleared her throat and answered the call.

"Hello," she said trying to sound awake.

"Hey, kiddo," Gordon greeted, "Listen sorry for waking you and everything."

"Don't worry about it. What's up?" She told him.

Gordon sighed and said, "The museum's been robbed."

Sylvia sat up in her bed, sleep now far from her mind.

"What? That's impossible, his clues said-"

"Noon: Rest From Work," Gordon interrupted her.

"What?" Sylvia asked confused getting out of bed putting on a pair of jeans.

"It's the name of a painting by Vincent Van Gogh. The _painting _is called 'noon', Vee," Gordon explained.

Sylvia paused in her dressing to let this new information sink in. She sighed wondering whether she should laugh or cry in frustration.

"Damn," she breathed, "Why didn't we catch that?"

"It was an honest mistake, Vee," Gordon said trying his best to comfort her. "None of us are very artsy buffs."

Sylvia chuckled weakly before responding, "True."

Gordon stood quietly wondering if he should tell her the rest. It would probably be beneficial since she could be another brain to help out and decipher what exactly the thief was trying to point them to.

"Where are you," Sylvia asked him as she pulled on a black sweater.

"I'm at the museum but I'm on my way home," he said observing the surroundings as officers were pulling out. "So don't bother coming down here."

Sylvia laughed a little as she looked down at herself getting ready to do exactly what Gordon was telling her not to.

"Then what should I do," she asked putting her keys back to the glass plate by the door.

"You should stay on the phone with me because there's more," Gordon said getting into his car, locking his door.

"More?" Sylvia asked her ears perking in interest.

"Yeah, at the scene there were some numbers left by this guy," Gordon explained, "'90192', mean anything?"

Sylvia sat in silence mewling over the numbers until an idea came to mind. Those numbers sounded awfully familiar, like a set of numbers that had been part of her life for several years.

"Hang on, Gordon," Sylvia said grabbing a pad of paper and a pen, "Can you tell me those numbers again?"

"Sure, '90192'," Gordon repeated knowing Sylvia had probably figured something.

"Listen, Gordon I'm going to have to let you go," she said ripping the paper from the pad before folding it and putting it in her back pocket.

"What's going on Sylvia?" Gordon asked.

"It's probably nothing, but I just need to check something, okay?"

"Vee, you better not hang up this phone until you tell-"

"I'll talk to you later, Jim," she said hanging up the phone before calling a colleague she never thought she'd have to call again for a favor.

"Hello," a groggily answered from the other end of the phone.

"Hey Dave," Sylvia greeted.

"Sylvia?" Dave asked immediately sitting up in his bed, concern swelling in his breast, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Sylvia assured him before continuing, "Listen I need a favor."

"Sure anything," Dave said rubbing his eyes with his unoccupied hand.

"Could you have my old office keys waiting for me," Sylvia asked.

"What?" Dave questioned wondering if he had heard her wrong. He was sure his sleep induced ears were playing tricks.

"I'll be there in like ten minutes," Sylvia told him.

"W-where? At your office," Dave asked confusion written all over his face.

"No at your house silly," Sylvia said.

"Oh…right," he replied his exhausted brain trying to work out everything that was said.

"Great see you in a bit," she said before she hung up.

Sylvia drove faster now knowing she had a heading. She giggled to herself knowing that Dave would finally realize what she had just asked soon.

The ex-reporter arrived shortly at her old boss' house in a few minutes and ran up to the door. Before she rang the bell, the door opened revealing a very tired looking Dave holding out a ring of keys.

"Thanks," Sylvia breathed.

"Uh huh," he said, "be careful, will you?"

"Yeah," she said with a laugh before getting back into her car and driving to the _Gotham Times _building.

She unlocked the front doors, relocking them after she entered and ran to the service elevators that were usually working this late since the janitors were doing their rounds. The elevator doors opened and took her to the ninth floor.

Some of the lights were still on making Sylvia's revisit to the place not as easy as it would have been. Marcus' old desk sat empty. Dave had told her he didn't have the heart to put out wanted ads just yet. Sylvia walked to her old office pulling out her key to unlock it. The door clicked and Sylvia stood back. The accident with her apartment coming back to the forefront of her mind. She went to kick it open when she felt a hand on her shoulder making her jump back with a shriek.

"Whoa, Syl it's just me," a familiar voice said from next to her.

Sylvia looked up to see Jeff, one of the other _GT_ reporters.

"Hey, Jeff," she sighed bringing her hand up to her chest.

"I'm sorry," he said sheepishly, "I didn't mean to startle you."

"It's okay, Jeff," she told him, "I just wasn't expecting anyone to still be here. What are you doing here anyway?"

"Just came from the museum theft," he replied, "Funny, I never got to do these scene reports when you were around. Now I wonder why I ever wanted to."

Sylvia laughed before she thought to ask, "Hey have you noticed anyone going into my office lately?"

"Besides the janitors, I don't think so, why?" he asked his brows coming together.

"No reason, just wondering," she answered.

"What are you doing here by the way?" he asked looking at her with a concerned look. Sylvia couldn't tell if it was for her or himself.

"Just needed to pick something up from here and I hadn't had the heart to until now," she lied through her teeth.

He smiled to her sympathetically.

"Yeah I could understand that," he commented, "would you like me to stay with you?"

"No that's okay, Jeff, thanks," she said with a smile.

"Alright well I'm off, take care of yourself," he said before going for the elevators.

"You too. Oh hey, when did the robbery take place?" she called after him.

Jeff turned to her before replying, "Around midnight according to the report, but it wasn't called in till half past."

"Thanks, goodnight Jeff," she said.

"G'night," he said before going into the now open elevator.

Once Sylvia noticed Jeff enter the elevator she quickly kicked the door open before she lost her nerve. The door swung open with no delay, opening to a dark room besides the moonlight coming in from the window.

She reached for the light switch but thought better of it. Instead walked to a cabinet near by that held an emergency kit. She knew they kept a flashlight in there so grabbed that and flashed it into the room. When she dubbed it safe, only then did she walk in. Holding the light in her left fist and the keys in the other, she walked to the back of her desk and searched through the keys.

"'90192'," she said holding the key up with the numbers scrawled on it, "Bingo!"

It was the key to a drawer in her desk that she hardly ever used. She unlocked it and found nothing but a single gray sheet of paper. She briefly wondered if she should touch it with her bare hands but quickly dismissed it. Later she would look back and think this was a stupid move but for now she was just interested in the fact that another psycho had decided to seek her attention. The first one only paid attention to her after she wrote an article but still the attention was there.

'Ready to be part of the game oh White Queen,

Meet me at the narrows in building 528 in room…could you guess Queen?

There are only eight rooms on the third floor. That should be enough of a clue for you.

See you soon.'

She looked at the time and it read '2:30 a.m.' Gunning it for the elevators with a tape recorder and camera in hand, but not before relocking her office door, she descended to the bottom floor and to her car.

**A/N: Good? Bad? Just downright confusing? Tell me what you thought in a REVIEW! **


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Chapter 3! Hope you guys enjoy this one. By the way, if you go to my page there is a link to a picture revealing who I have chosen to play the Riddler in this story. Hope you guys will check it out and like it. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Batman, Riddler, Alfred, Gordon, etc. **

Sylvia raced to the Narrows hoping that he would still be there since he didn't specify a time she figured he would be. When she arrived the building looked deserted. No lights on and it just stood stock still. She wondered if she had missed something in the note. Getting out of the car, she walked to the front entrance to find it open. She took this as an invitation and let herself in.

For another brief moment, Sylvia wondered if she should call Bruce or Gordon but the thought left her when she noticed a staircase to her right. Taking out her flashlight again she noticed a few newly made footsteps in the long accumulated dust and they led up the flights. Using all her courage she began to ascend. The fact that there was only one set of footsteps made her feel better. She could take on one person, at least she hoped. She followed the steps to the third floor where the door stood open. Thinking back to the letter, he had left the room number out. She figured with this guy there was never going to be clear cut instructions or answers. There were only eight rooms on this floor. How was that a clue?

She took the note out from her pocket to read it once more. He called her Queen. Why? Maybe that was part of the riddle. A White Queen with eight rooms…spaces. A chess board had eight squares across it. Where was the Queen placed? Sylvia visualized a board in front of her and listed the characters. The Queen was placed in the fourth square…so he was in the fourth room…right? Passing the rooms she came to a stop in front of room 30. But it was the fourth room that she counted. So throwing caution to the wind once more, she reached for the handle and pushed the door open. Inside the room was a desk with a chair that was facing away from her. The rest of the room was nothing of consequence when a person spoke.

"I knew you'd find your way," they said from the chair, "after all, the riddle I left was too simple not to figure out. Should have been a piece of cake for you after you figured out my other puzzles."

"Yeah alright I came, what do you want?" Sylvia asked trying to sound calmer than she was. After the Joker and Dent, she wasn't sure what this guy could be capable of.

"Don't worry Queen I won't hurt you…yet," he mumbled.

"Why are you calling me that," she asked.

"Queen?" he asked turning the chair to her, but she still couldn't see due to the poor lighting, "Oh well, since you are more than just a pawn in my game I decided to give you a higher rank."

"Oh…that's nice," she tried.

"You better believe it," he growled, "I almost thought you did not find my note and therefore had not deciphered my riddles."

Sylvia had no idea where the anger had sprung from but apparently this guy had one massive ego.

"I was beginning to think those two _idiots_ had lied to me," he mumbled but Sylvia caught his words. "You are friends with Commissioner Gordon aren't you?"

"Yes," she answered hesitantly.

"Well, perhaps they were not lying entirely," he said leaning back in the seat.

"Who?" she asked.

"Why your references, of course," he said eerily.

"My references," she repeated confused.

"Yes, how about a riddle," he said his voice becoming giddy.

He stood up from the chair his silhouette becoming clear. The man looked very thin, wearing a suit and a bowler hat. He continued without letting her answer, "He is the most versatile of them all. Disguising himself as the King, Queen, Jack, and Ace and all those in between. Who is he?"

Sylvia had figured out what he was aiming for about halfway through the riddle and felt herself stiffen. Her stomach churned unpleasantly and felt the room become stuffy.

"By your silence and quickened breath, I'm going to guess you already figured it out," he said.

"H-how did…you…" she tried suddenly her words failing her.

"H-how did I talk to him," he mocked from his behind the desk.

"He's in Arkham, how did you speak to him," she demanded letting her anger take over rather than her fear.

"Like it was hard for a brilliant mind as my own," he said egotism dripping from every word.

What felt like the hundredth time in the past hour, Sylvia threw caution out the door and aimed the flashlight at him. The man wore a green eye mask, and a green pinstriped suit with a white shirt underneath and a tie with a question mark printed on it. The accessory that grabbed Sylvia's attention the most was the green bowler hat sitting on his head also with a question mark on it. The face was hard to describe thanks to the mask but he had light brown eyes lined with black kohl, a pointed nose, and dark solid brown hair peaked out from the sides of the hat.

It took him an instant to recover from the sudden light and he went to grab the light out of her hand. Sylvia pulled back only to hit the door. Suddenly, an object collided with her hand and she dropped the light which turned off from the impact with the floor. She gripped her hand as it began to throb but she was pushed into the door as the guy brought his body to hers to pin her down.

"Now why did you have to go and do that, huh?" he asked his voice coming out strained as he tried to hold her down but Sylvia was putting on a fight.

"Get off me," she shouted trying to push him off but her hand protested. "You said you wouldn't hurt me."

"That was before you decided to act out," he growled his breath hitting her face.

She froze instantly hoping this would get him off.

"Get off me, please," she pleaded.

He stopped before realizing what could be interpreted with this position. He immediately took two steps away making sure there was sufficient distance and more.

"Don't flatter yourself," he said to her, "I can see why the Joker may have some sort fascination with you but frankly you are not my type…no offense."

"Believe me, none taken," she sighed in relief while rubbing her hand.

There was short awkward pause before Sylvia finally asked the million dollar question.

"What do you want from me?"

"I need you to write an article about me," he answered simply.

"What?" Sylvia asked after a short pause dumbfounded.

"I do not like to repeat myself," he growled. He continued calmer, "Once the Joker told me about you, I knew you'd be able to convey what I want."

"And that is?" She asked.

"To be taken seriously," he hissed.

"You are being taken seriously," she argued.

"Not seriously enough," he said between his teeth.

The two were silent for a moment. Sylvia thinking on the irony of the situation. The last time she had done an article she had almost been killed for it. Now it was being demanded of her to do so. She was split between crying and laughing hysterically.

"Well first things first," she began taking out a pen and a notepad going forward and taking a seat at the desk that he had previously occupied, "What's your name?"

"Excuse me," he responded.

"You know, your villain pseudonym? How would you like me to address you in the article?" she asked before remembering the symbol he always left with his riddles, "Question Mark Man?"

"Funny, very funny," he laughed before abruptly stopping and continuing, "But no. How about…the Riddler?"

"The Riddler?" she asked.

He nodded excitedly while Sylvia just shrugged before looking at him once more.

"You sure you don't want Question Mark Man?" she asked lightly.

"I'm sure," he said clearly not finding her jest amusing in the least.

Sylvia simply shrugged again and tried to write down the name in her notepad. Her hand was giving her a hard time.

"So what's your deal?" she asked. When he didn't answer she explained, "The Joker's was anarchy and Dent's was fairness and chance-"

"Riddles," he answered.

"So you leave riddles for the police to find and if they aren't smart enough to solve them they don't deserve to catch you, is that it?" she questioned feeling his gaze on her.

"Correct," he replied with a smile. "I have yet to find someone who is as smart as I am."

**A/N: Did you like it? Love it? Hate it? Let me know in a REVIEW! Thank you!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: A bit short but hopefully I'll be able to upload one tomorrow. Please review!**

"Sylvia," Gordon shouted as he exited the elevator that next morning.

Sylvia had turned in her story to one of the editors who then made sure it got to the front page. It was on pure luck that the story even got in. The deadline was usually the night before but it was Sylvia Juarez after all and it helped that the story was about the man behind the museum heist.

At the moment, the 'esteemed' journalist sat in her chair with her arms folded on the desk and her head resting on them, asleep. Her mouth slightly ajar.

"Juarez," Gordon called from her doorway. With no response from the journalist besides a soft snore, Jim turned and slammed the door behind him effectively waking her from her sleep.

"What?" she asked groggily, "What happened?"

"You mind explaining to me what this is," he inquired shoving the morning paper onto her desk.

"You mean, '_Do _you mind explaining this to me?' Some of the words in your statement were unnecessary," she corrected fighting a yawn.

"Excuse me," he asked bewildered after a pause.

Sylvia sat up looking alarmed at her surroundings as if she had just realized where she was and then turned to Jim. Spending three hours with the Riddler could really mess with your head.

"Oh jeez Jim I'm sorry," she said sincerely after she realized where she was and calmed down significantly.

"Sylvia are you alright," he asked taking a seat in front of her desk.

"I don't even know," she answered truthfully, "I just had a long night."

"Well, judging by this article I can understand why," he commented gazing hard at her.

"You're angry, right?"

"I think I have every right to be," Gordon responded.

Sylvia's office phone rang before she could retort and leaned over to pick it up.

"Hello," Sylvia said into the phone.

"Good morning, Miss Juarez," Kimmy greeted sounding overwhelmed, "Listen I'm really sorry to disturb you-" Kimmy sounded far from the phone when she continued, "no wait, sir- you can't- ugh-" coming back to speak into the phone, "Miss Juarez I'm sorry I tried to stop the Commissioner but that's a lost cause and now Mr. Wayne is on his way up."

Kimmy sounded so flustered but Sylvia caught what she was trying to say.

"Okay, thank you Kimmy there isn't a problem," she said before hanging up. "Look, Gordon just hang on a second and I'll explain everything."

Sylvia walked out of her office to meet Bruce at the elevator. She took a few breaths when the elevator doors opened she simply told Bruce to follow her to her office. Once inside she walked back to her desk and turned to address the two men. They began to ask questions about the article and where she had gotten the information. Sylvia tried to quiet them but there was no silencing them until-

"He contacted me," she shouted over them effectively quieting not only them but the entire floor outside.

Sylvia flushed and walked to the door before shutting it and putting the blinds down of her door. She turned back to the men who looked equally concerned.

"What do you mean he contacted you?" Gordon asked.

"Please have a seat and I'll explain," she sighed walking behind her desk to take a seat.

Gordon and Bruce took a seat.

"Last night Gordon called me about the numbers that they found at the scene, those numbers were 90192. I knew those numbers," she said. "Those numbers are on one of the keys that I was given when this office was assigned to me. My floor is 9. My office number is 19. The last number is 2 which is on the key that leads to a drawer in my desk," she explained, "So last night I called Dave asked for my keys and came to my office to find this note."

Sylvia pulled out the note from her pocket before handing it to Gordon.

"Queen?" he asked looking up at her expectantly.

"Yeah long story," she answered and continued, "I met him and he told me he wanted me to write an article about him."

"He asked you to right this article," Gordon asked.

"Ironic, isn't it," she said with a smile.

Bruce was given the note and read over it. He felt a mixture of things. Gratitude for Sylvia's luck that the Riddler hadn't harmed her and severe frustration. She chose her work over her own life…again! He had thought that part of her life was over. He was well aware that their relationship was strained for lack of a better word. Her frustration and anger at him was justified but he was so afraid this morning when he had read the article. Bruce wasn't sure how she would look when he got here or if she'd even be here. Alfred had brought in the article thinking that it was as good enough reason as any to wake him up earlier than usual.

"You met him last night without letting anyone know," Gordon asked incredulously.

"I knew-" Sylvia tried to speak but Gordon was having none of it.

"Do you have any idea what could have happened when you got there?" he asked furiously.

"You know I do, I was well aware of the risks that were involved," she argued.

"And yet you still went," he shouted. "I can't believe you would do this!"

Gordon's frustration showed all over his face but his next words were what made Sylvia cringe at her stupidity.

"I'm very disappointed in you, Sylvia," he said evenly before walking to the door to leave.

"Gordon," Sylvia called after him but he didn't even wait for the elevator just went straight for the staircase, "Gordon!"

Many of the editors and journalist had crowded around her office to listen in, though they were trying to seem like they were doing something of importance, Sylvia knew better.

"Oh go get a life," she shouted at them frustrated before she walked back into her office and slammed the door.

If Bruce hadn't been standing, Sylvia probably would have forgotten that he was there.

"You gonna yell at me too," she asked gazing at his blank face.

Bruce simply went and opened the door before closing it softly behind him. Leaving her in the tense silence and solitude of her office.

**A/N: Hope you liked it! Tell me what you thought in a review!**


	5. Updated 7292012 Chapter 5

**UPDATE! 07/29/12: I took to heart all of the reviews I got from this story and though the last chapter is done I cannot post it. I was also very unsatisfied with how the events in this story happened. As some of you put it, it was too fast. And you are all absolutely right. So I decided to rewrite some of the chapters starting with this one. These changes make me feel better and I hope everyone will appreciate these alterations as well. **

**Chapter 5**

Sylvia tried to get back into the game after that and working endless nights trying to get back on top. Sure she got her name back in the papers on the front page but it all seemed…meaningless. There was never an end to the stories that were going on especially with the Riddler heists still happening. However, Gordon avoided her as she did him whenever they were on the scene together. Getting news was hard when you didn't have a leak or squealer like Michael Weurtz had been for her. Then Bruce never called which only made Sylvia's mood worsen. Everything at work seemed empty and it wasn't until the second week of being back that she realized why. The painful epiphany hit her one night when she had been working late which wasn't unusual for her to do. She had been working tirelessly with the same article for the past eight hours and it just didn't seem to want to write it-self. She let out a frustrated growl and rested her head on her propped up hand with a sigh. Suddenly, she rose from her seat and walked to her office door.

"Hey Marcus," she called out, "this article doesn't seem to want to write. Could you go get me a coffee?"

When there was no response Sylvia walked over to his desk.

"Marcus," she called again as she drew nearer and stopped when she arrived at the dusty, empty desk.

She stood by the desk for a short time as her mind went blank. The realization dawned on her just an instant later. Marcus wasn't there anymore…her partner hadn't been here for over three months and yet she had still called out to him. Tears sprung to her eyes as her brain kick started back up and memories flooded her mind. Of the times she had spent here with her best friend. Why was she here? That was why work didn't seem like enough anymore. It would never be enough. Without Marcus…

A mournful sob escaped her lips as the truth hit her hard. She collapsed against the cubicle as she wondered what her friend would think of her if he saw her now. The Sylvia he knew would have never agreed to write that article no matter how good the opportunity was.

The elevator door dinged open and Dave stepped out of it ready to drag Sylvia out even if he had to carry her. He was not expecting to hear her sobs or finding her at Marcus' old desk.

"Syl, sweetheart," he said concerned coming to her side.

"I can't do it anymore, Dave," she said between sobs.

"Of course you can," Dave told her comfortingly taking her into his arms, "This was bound to be an obstacle that you would have to eventually overcome and you can do it."

"No, Dave, there isn't anything here for me anymore. It's too hard…it's just too hard," she sniffed putting her face against his chest.

Dave embraced his now, once again, former employee trying to give as much comfort as he could. He figured that things were not getting any better for Sylvia. Ever since the argument she had had between herself, Wayne and the Commissioner, he was aware of her plummeting morality. He had never seen her upset so he figured as long as she was happy he would let her conduct some rather unethical ways of finding a story. Now, however, he knew better. He needed to talk to Wayne. Unfortunately, Dave wouldn't get to it quickly enough.

* * *

Sylvia sat in her apartment looking over a few photos for a story she was editing for Dave. For some unknown reason, the newly appointed editor decided to work at home this cloudy Saturday afternoon.

Sitting at her dining room table her fingers nimbly flipped through the various photos trying to decide which one to put as the main picture. This reporter was slightly more ambitious than he should have been. No one was interested in whether or not the car accident last night was just that or a professional hit as some evidence is pointing to. All Gotham's citizens wanted to know about was this new Iceberg Lounge that was opening up soon. So unfortunately for Marty Falcon, his story would be pushed to page three where there wasn't enough room for all of his chosen pictures. Man, news sure was falling short these last few days. Even the Riddler was taking a break!

Sylvia sighed bending back over her chair trying to stretch the stiffness out. She rose from her seat and headed to her door. Locking it behind her, Sylvia took the elevator down to the first level. Her goal was to get her mail. Speaking of Riddler, he really wasn't a guy to be taken lightly and he had Batman's full attention. So far the man had attempted to steal from six different jewelers, four valuable paintings, and had held up an elite party stealing all the watches from the attendees. With none of those heists ever succeeding because Batman would show up every single time, the Dark Knight became Riddler's new and prime target. Then, out of the blue, he disappeared and all of his activity stopped. It's almost been two months since he had shown his face. Although, Riddler wasn't a killer he sure caused a lot of trouble for the police. She was sure Gordon was more than happy with his absence.

The elevator doors opened admitting her to the first floor. At the far wall was where the mail cubbies were stationed. Greeting the security guard Seth at the front desk, Sylvia pulled out her mailbox key and pulled out her mail. She closed her mailbox and headed back upstairs.

Thinking back to her thoughts from before, Riddler's absence for Sylvia was a time for panic. Where did he go? And why the break? This was what kept Sylvia up at night. Was Bruce wondering the same thing? They seemed to always come to the same conclusion with situations like this. Riddler had made no effort to contact her again and neither had Bruce. They hadn't seen each other since that day in her office. The few times Sylvia was on the crime scenes Gordon had treated her like nothing but what she was; a reporter. It hurt. It hurt a lot. She lost both of the most important and prominent men in her life overnight. She entered her apartment throwing her mail onto her coffee table in front of the television. Then she took her place back at her dining table.

Yup! Sylvia's life has become dull and familiar. Both things reporters hated the most. As if a gift from the heavens, her cell phone rang from its place beside her. It was a blocked number.

"Hello," Sylvia greeted.

"Turn on your television," a familiar voice responded in a distinct accent.

"Excuse me," Sylvia inquired unsure.

"Turn your television to GCN," the man told her.

Choosing not to argue, Sylvia walked to her living room turning on her television. The station was already on GCN. It was a breaking news broadcast. There were police cars and SWAT cars surrounding Arkham Asylum. The capitalized caption at the bottom of screen spelling out 'HARVEY DENT ALIVE?'

"Who is this," Sylvia demanded into the phone only to be greeted by the dial tone.

She hung up her phone and collapsed down onto her couch raising the volume to hear Jack Ryder.

"If you are just joining us, we are covering a massive breakout from Arkham Asylum," Ryder reported, "One of the escapees is said to be the late Harvey Dent."

"Oh god," Sylvia gasped feeling sick.

Looked like the lie was coming back to bite them faster than they had hoped. Gordon was going to need as much help as he can get. Gotham was going to be in an uproar. Their suppose White Knight has come back from the dead only to be this dangerous burnt killer named Two-Face.

"Along with Harvey Dent or as the Asylum staff has dubbed him, Two-Face, is the serial killer only known as the Joker. Both men are considered highly unstable and extremely dangerous." Jack Ryder continued with various facts about the escape but Sylvia was no longer listening.

So many questions were racing through her head and she had no answers. Her stomach plummeted when Gordon came on screen explaining the real events that had happened that night when Harvey had died including her involvement.

"This isn't happening," Sylvia groaned to herself, "This isn't happening!"

Sylvia jetted to her room grabbing her coat keeping an ear on the television. Abruptly, Gordon's voice cut off and in its place a familiar voice overtook the spotlight.

"Good evening Gotham," the Riddler leered from the screen only his mouth could be seen everything else was in darkness. "Now you know the truth, /And how hard it was to bare/ For the Commissioner and your heroic Dark sleuth/ The true identity was such a strong despair./ But now it's time for the citizens to do the saving/ Can you solve my riddle?/ Or will the Knight be left asphyxiating,/ In an underwater receptacle? / What a climactic scene/ For there is no story of more plight/ Than that of my Queen/ And her Dark Knight!"

Sylvia stood in front of her television unable to tear her eyes from the screen. Jack Ryder came back on completely shocked by what had just happened. Gordon was no longer standing at the podium where he had been making his speech. With swiftness she forgot she was capable of, Sylvia turned off the television, grabbed her purse, keys, turned off her lights, and was out of her apartment in mere seconds. She took the stairs instead of waiting for the elevator and raced down to the bottom. Her Honda was waiting in her assigned parking space ready to be driven.

Sylvia was so completely running in tunnel vision mode that she didn't even realize her car door locking itself nor the Joker card that was taped to the steering wheel. The engine roared to life but before Sylvia could change gears her phone rang. She answered it after digging through her purse and locating it.

"Hello, this is Sylvia," she voiced her customary greeting.

"Hello, Sylvia," a too familiar voice came through.

"H-Harvey," Sylvia stuttered unable to believe who was speaking through the phone to her.

**A/N: Hope you enjoyed! Thank you to everyone who favorited, alerted, followed and reviewed. It makes me so happy!**

**UPDATE: So let me know what you think of the changes. Hate it, like it, love it whatever it is let me know in a REVIEW!**


	6. Updated 7302012 Chapter 6

**A/N: I'm doing some major editing and rewriting to this story but right now I'm really happy with where it's going. I hope the rest of you are too. A reminder that I made a slight change to 'Through the Eyes of a Journalist' only to the 19th chapter. Nothing big just a paragraph explaining the cover story about Gotham believing Harvey Dent is dead when he's really in Arkham. And don't forget to read the chapter before this if you haven't yet. The changes begin in chapter 5! Hope you enjoy!**

**Chapter 6**

"Here are the forms you wanted, Mr. Wayne," Linda, Bruce's secretary, said as she handed him some files.

"Thank you, Linda," he said.

Bruce looked exhausted. There wasn't an hour that went by that Bruce hadn't requested a coffee from her. He had been coming in mostly every day for the past two months early and didn't leave until long into the night. Even Mr. Fox had inquired her about Bruce's odd mood. His work habits had been the talk of the office. She would have never had the guts to ask him about it. She thought it was too rude of her but since Mr. Fox didn't seem to do anything about it…

"Mr. Wayne, are you okay?" she asked quietly looking down at the man as he sat at his desk.

Bruce raised a brow inquisitively at her making her stutter in anxiety.

"It's just, before a few months ago you never came in until half past one on non-meeting days and never every day of the week. And you never used to ask for coffee unless it was for Mr. Fox," she explained.

Bruce looked down at his desk wondering if anyone else had noticed his turn to business.

"Your new habits have been the topic of the office," she said meaning to jest but Bruce's wince made her back track. "I'm sorry, Mr. Wayne. It's none of my business."

With that, Linda turned from his desk and out of his office. Bruce sighed when his door closed and he looked out his window. Ever since his fight with Sylvia he hadn't slept. During the day he worked at Wayne Enterprises or went to oversee how the construction of Wayne Manor was going and then at night he was out as Batman. If he slept at all it was only for two hours. Alfred was right. If he wasn't careful he would work himself into his grave. It became worse when Gordon had expressed his concern about not seeing Sylvia on any of the scenes anymore.

Having left work, Bruce suited himself up and left the makeshift cave. Listening to the police radios gave him the impression that it was going to be a quiet night. For the past month or so it's been quiet. But Bruce knew better than to fall into false hopes. A piercing scream sounded from an alley way to his right breaking through his thoughts. Speaking of…

Batman quickly parked in an alley way just across the road, hiding his bike under some debris and the dumpster. He quickly climbed above a building that overlooked the alley where he heard the disturbance. There was a woman being held at gun point while another man looked through her purse.

"Give me that necklace," the one with the gun barked.

The woman sobbed uncontrollably as the other with her purse attempted to rip the necklace from her throat. Batman dropped in knocking the man with the gun down. His cape whipped around as he sent the other assailant to the ground. The victim didn't stand around to wait but ran out of the alleyway to safety. Smart woman, Bruce thought when he felt a pipe make contact with his back sending him to the ground. He tried to get up but was quickly stopped by another hit. Looking up at his attacker he found a new man. The other two remained on the ground before him. Out of nowhere it seemed six more men came into view.

The man with the pipe didn't let up but Batman had had enough and grabbed the pipe ripping it from his grip. He sent a punch to him sending the man into the wall. On that cue, the six men charged at him.

Bruce felt like he was doing well but a bigger picture began to paint itself. Where did these six men come from? There was no way that there would be six of them trying to steal from the same woman.

"Stop fooling around and give it to him," one fallen man shouted.

Before he could decipher what was happening, Batman got a face full of gas. It worked quickly and he fell to the ground onto his knees. Inhalants usually worked quickly. This wasn't good and everything went dark.

* * *

This was not good! Gordon had tried over and over to get a hold of Mr. Wayne at work and at his house to finally get an answer. Bruce was out according to Alfred. Jim knew what that meant. He explained the situation to Alfred; the situation that involved the Riddler's new puzzle and Batman's link to it.

"I'll try to get a hold of him Commissioner, thank you," Alfred promised him, "I will call you if I get an answer. Have you tried to get a hold of Sylvia? She may want to know about this."

"I was just about to give her a call," Jim said, "She's involved with this. Riddler called her 'Queen'. I have no doubt that the Queen in his riddle is Sylvia."

"For her sake I hope you're wrong, Commissioner," Alfred hoped aloud as a goodbye.

"So do I," Jim replied before hanging up.

Jim found Sylvia's number listed on his phone and called. The first ring didn't even end before Sylvia's panicked voice sounded.

"Jim I'm in trouble," Sylvia expressed hurriedly.

* * *

"H-Harvey," Sylvia stuttered feeling her heartbeat speed up.

"Now, now Sylvia I think we both know that's not my name anymore," Harvey stated harshly.

"Harvey, please –"

"Before time runs out, there is someone who is eagerly waiting to speak with you as well," Harvey mockingly.

"Well if it isn't my favoritest reporter," a nasally voice took over.

Sylvia was too shocked to answer and a whole new feeling of dread dropped like a bolder into her stomach. Harvey was somewhat easy to handle but the Joker was a whole different ball game of unpredictability.

"Don't I get a hello," Joker teased laughingly, "I'm just going to continue since you are obviously in a - uh - rude mood. You have exactly two minutes to – uh – start moving your car or you and anyone else around you is going to be blown sky high."

Sylvia looked down at her odometer spotting two things wrong. There was a lot less gas in her car then there had been and next to the forty on her speed meter was a green line marked with a red happy face at the end of it. Without a second thought, Sylvia put her car into reverse and went speeding out of the garage.

"Very good," Joker cheered, "I don't even have to tell you the second part. So I'll skip straight to the third, if your speed falls lower than forty your car will explode."

Seeing Gordon was out of the question now. She needed to find a way out of the more public sections of Gotham and to the outskirts. So to the highway and out through the Gotham tunnel.

"How does it feel Sylvia," Harvey inquired speaking through the phone again, "To know that you are just out of the reach of death and there is nothing you can do about it? There is no Batman to save you."

"Oh Harvey," Sylvia spoke through gritted teeth, "I'm sure Rachel would be so proud of what you've become."

"Have you not watched the news Sylvia," Harvey asked calmly, "I am Two-Face now!"

Sylvia winced when he yelled the last statement.

"What happens if you can't reach the highway in time?" Two-Face taunted.

"What's going to happen when Gordon's men try to take you down because you're going fifteen miles above the speed limit? What happens if you run into traffic? It's Friday night Sylvia and it's rush hour!" Joker jumped in shouting the last sentence laughing gleefully.

Sylvia looked into her rear view mirror keeping an eye out for Gordon's force. If they did see her…

"You didn't think about any of that did you, Sylvia? I did. Well, I've got to go but don't worry I'll be keeping an eye on you. We won't want to miss the 'fireworks'." Harvey spoke as Sylvia could hear Joker laughing maniacally in the background. "No doubt you know about Riddler's plans for the citizens of Gotham and their Dark Knight. Batman is in some real trouble."

A tear slipped from Sylvia's eye as she absorbed the severity of the situation. Randomly, the dial tone sounded. This was it. There was nothing Sylvia could do short of throwing herself from her car going forty-five miles per hour.

She swerved through traffic going fifty trying to give herself some leeway. Then lights began to flash at her through her mirrors. The police were now tailing her. Her phone rang. Seeing Gordon's name lighting up gave her hope. She pressed the button on her ear buds to pick up the call.

"Jim," she shouted hurriedly, "I'm in trouble."

"Sylvia, what's the matter," Gordon asked trying to remain calm for her sake.

"I'll give you the Reader's Digest Version since I don't have a whole lot of time. I am in my car right now and it is set to blow if I go slower than forty miles per hour," she explained feeling sweat begin to develop on her forehead, "I have your boys riding my ass right now because I'm going above speed limit. I need to get to the highway so I can get out of the popularized area and get to the rural but I can't do that with the highways backed up and the streets."

Gordon was in disbelief for a moment before he burst into action after telling Sylvia to stay on the line. He found her file in his desk before getting on the police radio to talk to his unit.

"I need all units chasing a green 2007 Honda Civic LX license plate reading 3XML697," he read before instructing, "to fall into escort mode. This car is set to blow if it goes under forty miles per hour. I need all available units to start clearing the streets, roads leading to the nearest highway in front of this vehicle. Driver is Sylvia Juarez. We need to get that car out of Gotham City."

* * *

Riddler sat in his warehouse watching four different monitors and listening to the police surveillances. Two monitors were tuned into news stations while the other two were focused on the Batman's imprisonment. Everything was going according to plan. He knew that if those two got out of Arkham they would make a spectacle out of Miss Juarez and all the attention would be set away from the Batman. If the citizens didn't solve his riddle there would be no one to help the trapped Caped Crusader. He made sure the Batman would not be able to use any of his special toys to get out of this trap. The sedative he was given would prevent that from happening. By the time it wore off, Batman would have run out of air. That is if the water doesn't fill up the holder first.

The man with the bowler hat smiled merrily as he watched the quiet feed from his camera set in the Gotham Bay docks. People took life for granted especially the Batman! Riddler's hand unconsciously clenched feeling anger course through him. It wasn't fair! Those constant headaches, the dizzy spills, the relapses in thinking…NO!

Riddler growled throwing the lamp beside him against the wall plunging the room into darkness besides the glowing of the screens. He went to stand but quickly fell back resulting in the wheeled chair to fall out from under him and Riddler was on the ground holding his head in his hands.

He remembered when the weakness began. When the headaches became so unbearable they woke him from his sleep; when his senses would shut down; the tremors that would begin in his hands and now took over his whole body. Six months. The doctor gave him six months.

Edward felt his eyes water from the pain or frustration; perhaps both. His body trembled as he strained his neck to look up at his surveillance. No it couldn't be. It was his senses again. They were not cooperating. He closed his eyes before opening them again to find the same picture. His eyes closed again this time in frustration. Riddler growled again angrily before pushing himself off the ground and in touch with his men downstairs.

**A/N: Love it? Like it? Meh? Hate it? Let me know in a REVIEW! (or if you have questions go ahead and send a review)**


	7. Updated 7312012 Chapter 7

**A/N: Here's the new Chapter 7 and I hope you like it! Small reminder: might want to start reading from chapter 5 if you have not read the changes yet. Thank you again for reviewing, following, alerting, and favoriting.  
**

**Chapter 7**

"Sylvia," Gordon spoke into his phone as he suited up.

"Yeah, I'm here Gordon," Sylvia responded.

The police around her sped up to get in front of her but not to stop her like she feared. They positioned themselves two in front and two remained behind. Another cruiser came out a few streets onward to clear out the streets ahead. Sylvia sighed in relief but she had to remind herself her life wasn't in the clear just yet. Her car was still in the middle of Gotham.

"How far are you from the highway," Gordon asked.

"Not far," Sylvia answered, "About twenty minutes or so."

"Who did this to you Sylvia," Gordon continued questioning.

"Two-Face and Joker," Sylvia gave her answer easily.

"Are they working together," Gordon wondered aloud as he climbed into his cruiser.

"I don't know but it seemed like it," Sylvia answered honestly trying to keep her attention on the road and her conversation with Jim. "Gordon, what about Riddler?"

"I'm sure Batman has it under control," Jim assured her hoping to keep her calm during this ordeal.

"I'm not talking about Batman, Jim," she proclaimed, "I'm talking about Riddler."

When Gordon didn't say anything, Sylvia continued.

"The guy disappears for two months and comes back out of nowhere, pissed beyond belief and bumping up his crimes from burglary to murder."

As Jim drove to the Gotham tunnel, he listened to Sylvia's reasoning and agreed. It was too abrupt.

"Well, you're the Riddler professional, what do you think happened?" He asked.

"Nothing good," Sylvia voiced sternly, "I'm not talking about small instances like someone cut him off on the freeway. No, I'm talking about something life changing. It's too random for someone like him to want to kill."

"I need any available units here at the Gotham Bay docks now," a female voice came through Gordon's cruiser radio.

"What's happening, Colson," a male voice asked.

"I have a crowd of people down here saying they're saving the Batman," Colson responded speedily.

* * *

Samuel Hallow sat on his couch watching his son march around the living room in his toy walker and his wife Debra in the kitchen finishing up dinner. They were both still recovering from the news segment they had watched.

Apparently, there had been a breakout at Arkham and Harvey Dent was amongst the escapees. Jack Ryder had spilled the whole story about what really happened to Dent and the Joker; everything that had really happened to that Juarez woman. It was a huge blow to hear the full story. Dent was as crazy as the Joker. Who would have guessed?

Gotham had spent months hating a man who had done everything in his power to protect them. The police had hated the wrong man. The working class of Gotham was united in their hatred and now they were united in their guilt. The Batman was a hero. Suddenly, the Commissioner's speech ended and the screen was taken up by someone else. Debra came in wondering what had happened when she was silenced by the man on the television.

"Good evening, Gotham," he said with an accent that was not from the States, "Now you know the truth –"

Samuel listened intently to who he figured was that thief Riddler, on the television as he recited a poem; or riddle. His wife came and sat next to him their son now in her arms.

"But now it's time for the citizens to do the saving/ Can you solve my riddle?/ Or will the Knight be left asphyxiating,/ In an underwater receptacle? / What a climactic scene/ For there is no story of more plight/ Than that of my Queen/ And her Dark Knight!" He ended with a grin before the screen went back to the podium where the Commissioner had been speaking but now there was no one standing behind it.

"Oh, dear," Debra breathed from beside him holding their infant closer to her chest.

Soon, she headed back to the kitchen to serve dinner. Samuel, however, stayed behind and sat on the couch as Ryder continued reporting but now on the threat of the Riddler. Samuel blocked out the sound solely pondering Riddler's poem. He used the word 'receptacle'. That was a funny way to just say box. The term reminded him of work. The Gotham City Shipping Dock was closed for the weekend. He was in charge with working the crane and moving the right receptacles onto their corresponding shipment order. Most orders were through Wayne Tech. Those containers were impossible to break through. With one of those put underwater that person would have a very short amount of oxygen. Water would most likely start filling it –

Sam jumped up from his seat running to the kitchen.

"Deb! I have to head to the ship yard for a bit," he told her heading to the entry hall to grab his jacket from the coat rack.

"What? Why?" Debra questioned speedily. It was obvious his wife was startled by his random declaration.

"I think I know what that Riddler guy was talking about," he admitted pulling on his jacket.

"Sam, what are you going to do," Debra asked putting her son down on his booster seat with a bowl of Cheerios.

"Some of the language he was using reminded me of work," he explained, "and if that guy is in one, underwater, he doesn't have a lot of time."

Debra stood at the kitchen entry way staring at her husband like he was a stranger. Samuel looked back at his wife. Her expression caused him to pause.

"Sweetheart, don't look at me like that," he pleaded, "I'll be back. I just want to make sure nothing fishy is going on at the yard."

"And if there is?" she inquired curiously.

"I have to do something Debra," Sam persisted, "The man could really need help."

"You mean the Batman," Debra stated.

"Yes."

"Sam just a few minutes ago he was believed to be a killer," Debra continued in disbelief.

"Yes, he was Debra but the important thing is he's not," Sam defended, "You can't expect me to just sit here while a man could possibly be dying at my workplace."

Debra sighed attempting to quell her worry and allow her mind to think rationally. Her husband was right. If what the news said was true then the Batman was a hero. And right now he needed help.

Sighing again, Debra walked up to her husband and embraced him.

"Please, come home safely," she begged holding him tighter as he returned her hug.

"I will," he promised.

There was a knock at their door.

"Sam!" a voice shouted from behind the door.

"Steve?" Debra questioned looking up at Sam who mirrored her puzzled look.

Sam opened the door to admit his co-worker and friend Steve Hong.

"Steve, what are you doing here," Sam inquired staring at his breathless friend.

"Did you watch the news," Steve asked his friend before noticing Debra behind him. "Evening, Deb," he greeted politely.

"Hello Steve," Deb returned with a smile, "and yes we did. Sam was just on his way to the yard."

"Oh, good I won't have to explain on the way," Steve commented in relief. "C'mon we got to hurry. Most of the guys are on their way down there."

Sam planted a kiss on his wife's cheek before ushering Steve out the door.

"I just got off the phone with Mark – Goodnight, Deb," Steve called behind Sam's shoulder before allowing Sam to push him out of the house.

"Goodnight, Steve," Debra giggled used to Steve's sporadic antics.

From the open door way Debra watched them as they headed to Steve's awaiting car.

"I just got off the phone with Mark and he said there were people already looking around," Steve revealed.

"That puzzle guy is losing his touch if his riddle was so easy to decipher," Sam commented as he buckled his seat belt.

Steve nodded in agreement as he started the car and drove away. Debra remained at the door for a few moments watching as the car disappeared around the corner.

"Be safe," she muttered to herself a silent hopeful wish to whoever or whatever might be listening.

**A/N: Please, please, please REVIEW!  
**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed, followed, alerted, and favorited! They all get my writing juices flowing :D**

**Chapter 8**

"What was that Gordon," Sylvia asked fervently wondering if she had heard correctly.

"Nothing you need to worry about right now, Vee," Jim told her lowering the volume on his radio frequency so it was only a dull buzz in the background.

He didn't want to make her worry especially that now he was also troubled. What if this was the plan? Get all the officers to escort Sylvia out while Riddler took out the Batman?

"Do you think Riddler would be working with Joker and Dent," Gordon wondered aloud.

"No," Sylvia answered, "He's too intelligent for that. In his mind, they're not smart enough to work with him. Riddler prefers to work alone."

"Are you sure?" Jim inquired, "Because honestly these two plans seem to be working a little too well together."

"You mean the whole getting rid of the Batman and me in one night," Sylvia said, "I would agree with you Gordon if it made sense."

Gordon didn't apprehend why it didn't make sense.

"Maybe Riddler knew what Dent and Joker were planning and used it to his advantage but there is no way they are close cohorts in this," Sylvia insisted. "None of this makes any sense!"

"How do you mean," Jim inquired bewildered by Sylvia's strong statement.

"My situation, Jim," Sylvia explained, "It looks too planned out – too simple – for Joker to just follow along with."

The pair was silent for a moment and Sylvia put her full concentration on the turn coming up to get onto the highway. She sped up a little more hoping upon hope that she'd clear the turn but not fall below forty.

Gordon faintly heard screeching tires and Sylvia's breathing quicken.

"Sylvia," Gordon called waiting for a response.

Hitting the acceleration once clearing the turn, Sylvia's speed held up just above the forty. Sylvia sighed relieved.

"Yeah, Gordon I'm still here," Sylvia responded, "We've made it to the highway."

Jim was happy with that new information and continued on to the tunnel. The tunnel was the most crucial part to this whole plan. It needed to be completely cleared and with it being rush hour Gordon knew it was also the most difficult part of the design.

"Shit," Sylvia hissed unexpectedly.

"What's wrong," Gordon asked hastily.

"I don't mean to alarm you more than you already are, but let's face it Jim the Joker isn't exactly stupid," Sylvia complimented before revealing, "I don't think my car is going to make out of the bridge. My gas is running dangerously close on empty and I can't exactly stop and get some."

This new addition to the equation caused James to punch his steering wheel. What else could go wrong?

Batman's groan echoed as he awakened from his gas induced sleep. The sharp echo had him sitting up straighter quickly taking in his environment. He could see nothing but darkness so he turned on his night vision. It looked like he was in a steal container. One of those you'd find for storage or at the Gotham City Shipping Yard he estimated. This particular holder was filling up with water. So he was in the Gotham Bay. One of Riddler's traps he surmised. The water was barely at his ankles when he stood up but he immediately met the ground again with a splash. Oxygen was becoming scarce in here and now that he was awake he was going to be running out fast. Bruce never found many instances to panic but this one was turning into a perfect situation.

He slowly stood back up leaning against the wall behind him trying to determine some way of getting out. He wondered how long he had been out. Searching for the answer, he looked for the source of the water. There were small little gaps within the metal that was allowing the water to flow through. None were of a massive size to enable rapid flow of water. Bruce concluded he'd been underwater for roughly twenty minutes.

The police frequencies grabbed his attention when the feed would occasionally come through. They were trying to get something out of the city through the tunnel. It wasn't until Sylvia's name was said that Bruce began to really try to piece together what was happening above him. The feed kept going in and out that Bruce could barely piece anything together. All he was certain of was that Sylvia was involved and that was enough for him to concentrate on getting out and getting to her.

The doors to the unit were likely chained shut. Bruce pushed against them only to slam them back together when a pool of water flowed in bringing the water level to halfway up his calves. He silently cursed. Yes they were definitely chained and there was no way he could get it open without drowning himself.

He was wondering if he could hold his breath long enough as he broke the chains and still keep his strength up to push through the rush of water when there was knocking above him.

Tap – Tap – Tap – Tap; Tap; Tap – Tap – Knock… – Tap; Tap – Tap – Knock… – Tap; Knock…Knock…Knock…Knock…

Batman stood still for a moment in utter confusion before the same sequence as before started up again. There was someone knocking on the receptacle. And they were using Morse code spelling out 'Hello'. Bruce swiftly pulled out his grapple gun and used it to make a reply of 'Hi' loud enough. In return he got:

Tap – Tap – Tap – Tap; Knock…Knock…Knock…Knock; Tap – Tap – Knock… – Tap; Knock… Tap – Tap; Knock…Knock…Knock…Knock…; Knock…Tap. Tap – Tap – Tap – Tap; Tap; Tap – Tap – Knock… – Tap; Tap – Knock…Knock… – Tap; Tap – Tap; Tap – Tap – Tap; Tap – Tap – Tap – Tap; Tap; Tap – Knock… – Tap; Tap.

'Hold on. Help is here.'

Bruce couldn't help but be consumed by confusion. Why would anyone be helping him?

The shipping yard was filled with dozens of people crowding around a certain part of the dock up against the waist high railing overlooking the water. Steve parked on the street since there was no parking left in the employee lot. Sam and him clambered out of the car and headed straight to the crowd of concerned citizens.

"Mark," Steve shouted over the mass of people.

"Steve," a voice from the front of the group yelled in return.

The duo pushed themselves to the front of the group to find their other co-worker Mark standing on the other side of the railing looking into the water at something.

"Hey what's happened," Steve asked eagerly looking over to the water where there were bubbles rising from below.

"Divers were the first ones out here," Mark filled them in.

He looked up at Steve to find Sam behind him.

"Oh good you got Sam," Mark stated pleased.

"Hello, Mark," Sam greeted getting a smile from Mark.

"Hi, hi," Mark returned before informing them, "I spoke to one of the divers. When they got here they figured the vessel would be within reach of the crane. Looks like they're assumption was right. They found a receptacle down there with a green question mark painted on it."

"Wonder who left that," Steve mumbled sarcastically.

"So we know where he is," Sam asked.

"Yeah, they're down there trying to make contact," Mark answered.

"Regardless if they get a response, I'm going to crank up the claw," Sam voiced, "Who knows what they did to him. He may not be in the condition to respond."

"Good idea," Mark agreed.

The sound of a chopper overhead grabbed their attention. 'GCN' printed on the side informing them news casters were on the way. It was a bad thing but a blessing as well. A steady overhead light was exactly what this situation called for.

Steve and Sam pushed against the crowd to get to the crane. Sam pulled out his keys to open up the office where the keys were held. Steve treading close behind. Unlocking the office, the two employees entered one heading for the rack of the keys and the other grabbing three walky-talkies to hand out to his co-workers. Sam was fast to find the correct keys and headed out of the office.

"Sam," Steve called from inside the office causing Sam to head back.

"What," he questioned from the doorway.

Steve tossed him a radio which Sam caught easily.

"I'll be your eyes," Steve told him.

Sam nodded and made his exit for the crane. He climbed up the steps to the cab where the controls were located with the radio now on and attached to his belt. He unlocked the door and climbed in taking his usual seat. The crane starting up startled the crowd a bit. Most took a few cautionary steps back from the rails to give the workers room.

"Alright Sam your clear to move," Steve's voice came through reassuringly. "Get the crane right up against the rail."

Sam moved the hydraulic crane into place while the spectators watched in rapt anticipation.

"Extending the boom," Sam informed his crew through the walky-talky.

There were four hook blocks hanging from the boom head as the boom extended and rose above the water.

"Don't release the hooks just yet, Sam. We're just waiting for word from the divers," Mark spoke from his place at the rails. "Oh, looks like one is coming up!"

One of the divers resurfaced taking off their snorkel before shouting out, "We got contact!"

The crowd cheered excitedly at word that their hero was alive.

"Where is it," Mark asked her.

"I'm just above it," she informed him, "We're putting flares to make it visible."

"Sounds good," Mark commented before speaking into the radio, "Alright boys, looks like we'll be getting a visible target soon."

Another diver reemerged from the dark depths with a light telling the female diver some news.

"Hey," she shouted to Mark, "What's your name?"

"Mark," he answered.

"Hi, Mark. Listen, we need that crane in here fast," the female diver explained, "how much can that baby carry?"

"About forty tons," he responded.

"Let's hope that's enough," she shouted back. "The storage is filling up with water. How much do you think it'll weigh?"

"What size storage unit," he asked.

"Looks like a twenty footer," she replied.

"Hopefully it'll just be enough," Mark shouted.

Mark knew better. They won't be able to bring it up to the surface if the unit is filled with water. It'll be over 5 short tons than the crane can carry. They had to try.

"Alright, Steve you're on," Mark spoke into the radio.

Sam straightened to attention waiting for Steve's directions.

"Okay, Sam we need a bit more boom," Steve commanded clearly.

Sam extended the boom before Steve told him to stop.

"Good! Lower the blocks," Steve instructed.

"Hey guys just a heads up," Mark chimed in, "It's a twenty footer down there and it's getting filled up with water."

"Oh man," Steve said dejected.

With their job, knowing different weights and their crane's limitations was a necessity. A little less than eleven thousand gallons of water can fit in a twenty foot storage unit. One gallon weighed eight pounds. The equation was not adding to a good number. The storage unit alone weighed five tons.

Three divers were present and were awaiting the hook blocks. Sam watched from the cab as the hooks made it to the water. Steve gave a thumb down as the signal to release the hooks more. They needed to run through these steps fast. Sam seriously hoped they weren't too late.

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	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: I really can't express how much I look forward to your comments. Thanks to everyone who alerted, favorited, followed and reviewed. They do wonders for me. **

Chapter 9

Alfred was washing dishes in the kitchen. GCN's Jack Ryder reporting the news on his small kitchen television; however, Alfred's mind wasn't on the news. It was with his charge wherever he was. Alfred had tried contacting him several times only to never receive an answer. The same was happening with Sylvia. After speaking with Commissioner Gordon it seemed like both of them fell off the face of the earth.

Now with the news doing full coverage on Sylvia's precarious situation made Alfred worry more about his charge. Sylvia needed him desperately and he was nowhere to be found. It was very unlike him.

"We have an update on the Riddler and Vicky Vale is in the middle of the action with this coverage. Vicky," Jack Ryder told viewers before the scene changed to show Vicky Vale at the Shipping docks.

It was easily recognizable to Alfred since he found himself at those same docks almost every morning. Batman's makeshift headquarter was located beneath one of those storage units.

"Thanks Jack. Breaking News, Gotham," Vicky Vale said steadily from the screen. "It looks like Riddler's puzzle has indeed been solved and the Batman, newly acclaimed hero, has been located."

The butler abandoned the plate he was drying and turned up the volume.

"Spectators say he has been imprisoned in a storage container left at the bottom of Gotham Bay," Vicky recited while behind her a crane was at work. "Employees here at the Gotham City Shipyard are hard at work attempting to save the hero. Divers, who were the first ones at the scene, say that they have been communicating with the Caped Crusader during this ordeal through Morse code. Latest update, the Batman told them the water level within the storage unit was now up to his chest."

Vale stepped to the side enabling the camera to shoot the events unfolding at the surface of Gotham Bay.

"As you can see, crane operator Samuel Hallow is lowering the hooks into the water to the three volunteer scuba divers so they can attach them to the receptacle below. Although, some disheartening news has already befallen these hard working citizens," Vale claimed coming back in the camera's view. "Shipyard workers are speculating that if they don't begin bringing up the steal vessel now, the water flowing in may make it impossible for the crane to lift. I along with my fellow Gothamites down here are waiting on bated breath sending prayers, wishes, and hopes that our hero will rise from the Gotham Bay waters alive. I'm Vicky Vale reporting for GCN here at the Gotham City Shipyard sending it back to you Jack."

"Thank you Vicky," Jack Ryder took over effortlessly, "We'll be keeping up with that story along with the mobile ticking time bomb that is getting closer and closer to the Gotham tunnel. But questions are rising about what the police plan to do with the three mile traffic back up from the tunnel. We'll be back after these commercials."

Alfred turned off the television leaving the kitchen. Arriving at the entry hall, he placed his trench coat off and headed down the elevator. His destination was the Gotham Shipyard.

* * *

Batman took in slow calm breaths but that was becoming difficult. Three quarters of the unit was already filled with water and the lack of air was starting to affect him. He can't lose consciousness now. He could hear noises coming from the exterior part of the vessel but he couldn't decipher what they were anymore. He quickly found himself treading water and trying to suck up the last remaining oxygen. Fight, Bruce! He kept telling himself.

Sylvia…his mind kept returning to her. The last conversation they had was less than that and more of an argument. He knew she was sorry and yet his hurt and pride got in the way. Now, he may never see her again whether he got out of this situation or not. From what he heard, she was in just as much trouble as he was.

A harsh jolt made the water swoosh around. It felt like he was being lifted. But, there was still little air and the water level wasn't getting better. Bruce needed to fight to remain conscious.

* * *

"Divers out of the water," Mark yelled from the railing as the crane was finally hooked. It took them a lot longer than it should have.

The three swimmers came to the ladders leading up to the dock and hung on just in case they were needed. They were a safe distance away from danger.

"How's it looking, Sam," Mark asked into the radio.

"So far so good," Sam responded, "mind you, we won't hit any complications until the container gets closer to the surface. That's when gravity will run its course."

And as Sam predicted, complications did indeed arise. Water was too unstable and versatile. It was becoming difficult for Sam to keep the weight evenly distributed to all hooks.

"Shit," Sam cursed trying to keep everything balanced.

"Alright I see it, Sam. Keep it coming nice n' easy," Steve directed watching as the white container became visible.

There was no way for Sam to respond since he was using both hands on the machine. The crane began to make unusual noises. It was from the stress of lifting something with so much weight. The container was barely breaking the surface as the noises got louder.

Steve began to hear it as well and so did Mark. Mark cursed profusely when out of the corner of his eye he found an elderly man in a trench coat standing beside him. Mark smiled at him sheepishly apologizing for his language.

"I won't mind if you don't mind my foul mouth," the older man joked with a soothing British accent.

Mark chuckled at the jest before they both brought their attention back to the water. As a half a foot of the storage unit became visible, Steve instantly noticed the unevenness in the lifting. The back of the unit was about a foot out of the water compared to the front.

"Sam we need to straighten –"

Two bangs resounded closely after each other from their load while the crane creaked and clanked from the sudden weight change. Two hooks from the same side had snapped off. Surprised shrieks and yelps sounded from the spectating crowd. As luck would have it. The two hooks that were still attached were keeping the opening to the container just above the surface.

"Guys we need to do something," Sam spoke his words dripping with alarm, "I don't know how much longer these hooks will stay connected."

Sam's statement was rapidly followed by several splashes but not the type that signaled the hooks releasing but the type of splashes made by something falling into the water. In this case, it was several _somebodies_ falling into the water. The persons resurfaced swimming toward the steel unit. Some with different tools like tire irons and crowbars. Soon more citizens followed, jumping into the water to help. Doctors, lawyers, off-duty cops, mail carriers alike jumped into Gotham Bay to give aid. The group of a dozen or so converged to the vessel straining to pull off the chains sealing the container.

Alfred watched from his place at the dock as the citizens dove in. The sight was heart wrenching and so completely awe-inspiring. Alfred felt the tears well up in his eyes as he watched the people Bruce continuously risked his life for so desperately try to save him. A cry of victory sounded as the chain was broken and the seal opened.

More citizens congregated to the ladder, a rope at the ready, to watch as the Batman was lifted from the depths of the container. At the sight, more cheers were heard from the group. It took the three divers and two citizens to keep the Batman afloat and taken to the ladder. The end of the rope was thrown down to the group and instantly tied around the Dark Knight's waist so he could be hoisted up. Gothamites pulled together and brought him safely up to dry land.

Another citizen was quick to come forward to perform CPR but found that it was unnecessary. Batman was breathing.

"He's alive," the person announced with great enthusiasm followed by celebratory cries.

"Give him some breathing room," Mark insisted holding his arms outstretched to symbolize how far they should get.

Batman was sat up with some assistance. It was quite overwhelming for him to see so many concerned faces looking down at him Alfred amongst them and none attempting to hurt him.

"Hey pal," one of the divers greeted Bruce, "you okay?"

Bruce merely nodded before attempting to stand. Many aided him while chastising him claiming that he needed to 'take it easy'. There was no time for that.

"Where is Sylvia Juarez," Batman spoke, his customary gravelly voice in place.

"That reporter," someone questioned Bruce nodding in response.

"She's headed toward the bridge," another answered.

"Her car has been rigged with a bomb," Vicky Vale revealed pushing her way through the crowd. The usual news cameras nowhere near her. "It's set to go off if her speed falls below forty. They're trying to get the car out of Gotham and to the rural area through the tunnel. However, the traffic is still backed for half a mile or so."

Looking around the group, Batman could only say, "Thank you."

One off-duty police officer shook his head and replied, "You don't need to thank us."

"We should be thanking you," the female diver added with a smile.

Batman gave no further words before using his grapple gun and soaring out of the vicinity. Or at least that's what it looked like to the citizens. In actuality, he found himself in front of his HQ for the Batpod. He needed to get to the highway and fast.

* * *

Across town, police were working diligently to clear the highway. Most were trying to clear the tunnel but with not much to show for their efforts. Tunnel was still full with hard working persons heading home from a hard day at work and their bomb was coming up fast.

Sylvia drove on feeling Gordon's frustration through the phone.

"Talk to me, Jim," Sylvia pleaded, "What's going on?"

"How far are you from the bridge," Jim questioned watching the turmoil around him.

"Ten miles give or take," Sylvia answered.

Jim gasped wondering where the time went. She would be here in less than fifteen minutes and there was no lane opened to let her through. Gordon needed to think fast but what could they do?

A gasp came through from the phone causing Jim to panic but before he could ask what had made her pant Sylvia ordered, "Jim, tell your men to pull back."

"Vee, I –"

"Just do it, Jim. It's going to be fine," Sylvia assured him. "He's here."

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	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Thank you to Kari10 for your consistent and welcomed reviews. They always brighten my day. And another big thank you to Silver Akuma Kitsune for your inspiring review. **

**Thank you to the others who have favorited, alerted, and followed. Hope everyone enjoys this chapter!  
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Chapter 10

Harvey Dent watched the news feed with renewed enthusiasm as Batman showed up and Joker giggling a few feet away. Having Batman be there to personally watch such a close friend get blown away gave him an even sweeter taste of revenge. The event would destroy Batman…and Gordon. Harvey was counting on it.

"I love the site of chaos," the Joker sang ending with a laugh.

He swiveled around in his chair attempting to watch the screen and spin around simultaneously. His useless attempts at both were causing him to laugh louder.

"I do enjoy this show," the clown voiced before putting an end to his spinning, "Watching the police try and try to bring order to a chaotic circumstance. They can't see what's really happening. They don't stop to think at the other possibilities. Not even the Bat can be bothered."

Joker was going through another tangent. Harvey was still trying to learn how to tune him out. It was no use. The clown's constant fidgeting and sporadic bouts of laughter were impossible to ignore. But as Harvey gazed at the television, seeing the still full tunnel and Gordon shouting useless orders around, Harvey would withstand hours with Joker's antics just as long as he could watch this.

Only Joker got the full details of the joke, however. Keeping quiet this whole time was becoming tough. Catching glimpses of Harvey's elated expression, made him fall back in laughter again. He couldn't help it. The whole situation was just so funny! Harv wouldn't appreciate the joke though. All he wanted was his petty revenge. It was a weakness that Harvey had that he, the Clown Prince of Crime, didn't possess. Although, now that he looked back at the monitor he found his eye twitch in annoyance.

That Riddler guy almost got in the way. His little almost prevented the Bat from showing. One can always rely on the Batman to come save a person in need and usually his plans would go off without a hitch. The police on the other hand, they just mess everything up. If _his_ reporter's life was left in the hands of Gotham's finest he would have had to call in and ruin the joke. Joker didn't even have to jump in to bring the Riddler's plans down. That big headed moron did that himself. He wasn't sure if that 'puzzle' was even thoroughly thought through. It wasn't even a riddle! At least he didn't think so. Riddler's shtick and obsession with riddles went way over Joker's head.

Joker was all about doing things. Riddler planned his heists so far in advanced that he even wrote a riddle for each one. No, no, no, no, NO! That was not the way things were done. And that's why, Harvey should have known better. Joker never planned things and he always kept his word. Speaking of…

Harvey was practically hanging off the edge of his seat; looked like Syl was coming up to the tunnel. Now would be a great time to remind Harvey who was really in charge.

The Batpod seemed to crawl out of the darkness as the police cruisers pulled back giving him space to pull up beside Sylvia's Honda. Meanwhile the driver of the green civic rolled down her window to make communication easier.

"What's the plan," she asked loudly.

"Yours is to keep driving," he commanded.

Sylvia looked back to the road in front of her thinking 'great'. A loud thump and her car making a small jolt to the side alerted her to Bruce's actions. There was now a claw clamped to the frame of her car attached to the Batpod by a thick steel chain.

"What are you doing," she shouted.

"The tunnel wasn't cleared," he informed her, "you're going to be hitting traffic up ahead."

"Oh, god," Sylvia groaned.

"You're going to need to make a U-turn. Your car can't make it without falling under forty. Mine can. It's going to maneuver yours through the turn. Turn the steering wheel; I'll take care of the rest," Batman promised.

Sylvia nodded her comprehension awaiting his word to start turning.

"Once were out of the turn, I'm going to get up close to your car and you'll need to climb in," Bruce continued to instruct. "We'll have eight miles of clear highway to do it."

That last sentence should have been comforting but Bruce wasn't aware of her gas situation.

"I don't have eight miles," Sylvia yelled her voice breaking due to the stress and emotion coursing through her, "This might be a great time to tell you that my car is running on empty. I don't have more than three miles left let alone eight!"

Looking ahead, Sylvia spotted the numerous cop cars and red lights from the still cars up ahead.

"Concentrate on making the turn," Batman reminded her.

Sylvia exhaled waiting and hoping that she'd get out of this alive.

"Now," Bruce shouted.

His words spurred Sylvia to turn the wheel to the left. All she could hear were her tires screeching as they pushed through the sharp turn at fifty miles per hour. Without the chain holding her car to the tank, Sylvia knew her car would have rolled over.

Jim sighed relieved that they steered clear of the traffic but now it was time to get Sylvia out of the failing car.

Bruce retracted the chain while the claw stayed implanted in its place. Then, he proceeded to drive up to her passenger side.

"Sylvia," he called earning her attention. He held up a pipe to her which puzzled Sylvia before he explained, "Put your seat all the way back and jab the pipe in place so it will keep the car accelerating."

"Got it," Sylvia assured as the pipe was tossed through the window landing on the passenger seat.

A clinking sound started up coming from the back of the car. Her car wasn't going to hold up much longer. She slid the pipe in place, bringing the seat up a bit to lock it in place. This caused the car to accelerate rapidly but she didn't have time to care.

At her side now, Batman had his car steadily keeping up. Proceeding to put his car on auto, Bruce clambered out of the Batpod's opened roof to get himself closer. Sylvia kept one hand on the wheel while attempting to open her door. Bruce came up to the passenger side of his car opening the door for her and swiftly breaking it off its hinges. Sylvia would have cared if her car wasn't set to explode. Bruce got back in the car taking off the auto-pilot. He watched in attentive anticipation as Sylvia shimmied her body out of her seat with one hand still manipulating the steering wheel.

"You're going to have to jump Sylvia," he counseled her with his heart pounding painfully against his chest in fear.

Sylvia's foot slipped triggering her hand to involuntarily swerve the car closer to her savior. Her knee connected shortly but painfully against the side of the other carriage. Thinking fast, she released the wheel and jumped into the black tank-like car in front of her. Sylvia landed safely in the car as hers continued down the highway. Bruce effectively turned his pod around away from the anticipated explosion bringing it to a solid stop in exchange to pull Sylvia into the car further. The pair wrapped their arms around the other; their bodies tensing in preparation of the blast.

Looked like Syl was coming up to the tunnel…

"Yup," Joker sighed loudly stretching his arms out, "all according to plan, eh, _Harv_? The Commissioner and his boys all running around like babies with their heads cut off – panicked – all in the effort to save one talented reporter gone hero. I can't wait till they get the punch line."

The ex-DA rolled his eyes not comprehending what the Joker was chatting about but that wasn't uncommon. So he just threw Joker's words into the wind and kept his attention on the screen. Something shot out from the Batman's tank attaching itself onto the doomed green Honda. If the gas ran out but Sylvia's car was still being pulled at forty would the bomb not detonate? Harvey cursed silently. That was loophole he didn't foresee.

"That there was never a bomb in the first place," Joker's chuckling slowly escalated to full blown laughter again.

What? Harvey's mind went blank; just that one worded question repeating itself over and over again. Two-Face looked over at the hysterical clown feeling his hands clench, his heart rate speed up, and his vision blur. He shot out of his chair at the Joker pulling him out of his seat by the collar of his ridiculous shirt.

"What did you say," Two-Face growled furiously.

"Now, now Harvey," Joker admonished, "remember what the Arkham doctors said about your anger."

Two-Face roared as he threw Joker to the ground receiving more laughter.

"Har-Harvey," Joker said breathlessly trying to catch his breath from laughing so much, "Did you really think I was going to let you kill _my_ reporter?"

"You, lying son-of-a –" Dent yelled at the clown.

"Don't impugn my honor, _Two-Face_," Joked teased chuckling, "I am a man of my word and I never said, specifically, that there was a bomb in her car. My words did lead everyone to believe there was and that was as far as my agreement went."

Joker stood up brushing himself off. Dent hovering a few feet away his hands still clenched and trembling with his just barely contained anger.

"I don't kill simply because someone tells me to," Joker continued his explanation, "I just do it."

It was as simple as that in Joker's eyes. He didn't feel like killing Sylvia.

"I never told you we'd kill her but I agreed to scare her and that worked out pretty well don't ya think," he asked motioning toward the television screens. "She sounded pretty scared to me." After a slight pause he commented, "I don't really work well with others."

With that said Joker picked up his purple jacket from his vacant chair and put it over his arm. His aim was to leave but Harvey spoke out.

"So what?" he questioned irately, "She just lives!"

Joker looked back over his shoulder at the burnt ex-DA.

"Looks like it," Joker spoke with false sympathy, "She's just too much…fun to get rid of just yet."

Not waiting for Joker to finish, Harvey went to grab his gun but by the time he turned back Joker was gone. Two-Face dropped the gun opting to phone in some of the recently escaped Arkham inmates hiding out below to give him a hand in finding the contemptible clown. Once again his actions were halted, this time by the events happening up on the screen.

Bruce's heavy breathing was all Sylvia heard while her car sputtered a couple yards away to an uninterrupted stop. Silence reigned supreme amongst that strip of highway as every person present shared the same question: Where was the explosion?

The pair so desperately clinging to one another had chosen to find the answer but opted not to care as their eyes met.

"You came," Sylvia praised breathily although feeling she really shouldn't be surprised.

"Are you alright," he asked her.

"I am now," she whispered embracing him tighter.

"Sylvia –"

"Vee!" Gordon's shout alerted them that they weren't going to be alone much longer.

The two pulled away from one another to meet reality.

"You two okay," Jim asked worriedly taking in Sylvia's appearance first.

She was bleeding from a wound at the right side of her head just below her hairline. He was going to have to get her to medics.

"I'm good, Jim," Sylvia told him but her stumbling steps said otherwise.

"I need a medic over here," he shouted over to the ambulances standing by.

There were groups of cops and fire trucks too. They had really prepared for some drastic damages.

Bruce had to remind himself not to seem attached to Sylvia as she was carried away from his sight. She would be fine. She was in good hands.

With Sylvia now being taken care of, Jim brought his attentions to Batman.

"What about you," Jim asked concerned.

"I'll be fine," Batman spoke shortly before getting back into his pod.

"Listen," Gordon requested as he leaned over the car to insure their conversation wasn't overheard, "I'm going to make sure Sylvia gets checked into Westville. I think it's best if you make a _personal_ appearance. Appearances and reputations be damned."

Gordon was talking about Bruce Wayne's reputation. However, it was still important for Wayne to keep his playboy persona. Or was it?

"Jim –"

"I'll take care of Dent," the Commissioner interrupted him, "and Joker and Riddler. If something gets out of hand, I'll get a hold of you." Jim leaned closer before whispering, "Right now it's Sylvia that is important. Believe me Bruce. We never contemplate the possibilities of losing those we love most until the possibility is staring us straight in the face."

Bruce looked up at Jim startled a bit. He was never called Bruce when he was in the suit. It was the first time Jim's knowledge of his identity showed itself. Batman nodded before the pod's roof shifted into place. Jim backed up more to give him room and watched as the car disappeared into the darkness.

"Commissioner Gordon," an officer called for his attention behind him, "What do we do with the car?"

Jim turned to the cop to see him pointing to Sylvia's pretty beat up Honda Civic. There was a claw embedded to the frame just above the driver's side back door leaving the back window cracked, the driver's side door was missing, the tires would need replacing, and the tank was empty.

"Son, that's a loaded question," Jim joked making the officer laugh. "Have it towed to a repair shop, please."

After his superior's instruction the cop nodded and moved to begin his task when Gordon called him back.

"On second thought, it might be a good idea to get it cleared by bomb squad," Jim suggested, "Don't want to take any chances right, Officer Blake?"

Officer John Blake grinned before replying, "Yes, sir."

**A/N: Couldn't help but put John in here. He won't be doing much appearances I just love his character in the Dark Knight Rises.**

** Anyway, what did you think? Leave me a REVIEW in the nifty new text box below. \/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/ THANKS!**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Thank you to everyone who reviewed, followed, alerted, and favorited! They never cease to inspire me :D. Here's chapter 11! Hope you enjoy!**

Chapter 11

Getting to Westville hospital, out of his Batman garb and in his Lamborghini, Bruce parked at the first space he could find remotely near the hospital and ran the rest of the way. Going in Bruce spotted Barbara Gordon speaking with Dr. Savadra.

"Thank you, Dr. Savadra," Barbara replied to him with a grateful smile

"Mrs. Gordon," Bruce called.

"Oh, Mr. Wayne," she greeted turning her attention to him, "It's a good thing you came."

"How is she?" he asked concerned.

"She's fine," Barbara answered. "Dr. Savadra said she'd be able to go home in a few hours. Once they get the results from her blood work. They don't want to cut corners with her. Especially given the identity of the two people who did this to her."

"Really?" Bruce asked absolutely relieved.

"Yes, it seems she suffered some knee damage and a minor concussion, but like she said she's suffered worse," Barbara laughed lightly before adding, "And listen Mr. Wayne I'm not sure what happened between the two of you but I can assure you that she is very sorry."

At Bruce's puzzled look, Barbara explained.

"You see she and I have been keeping tabs on one another. My husband hadn't known that until today," she told him, "When he became concerned that she wasn't showing up to the crime scenes anymore, I became concerned as well and called her. She didn't tell me why my husband and she had had their disagreement but I could tell she felt terrible."

"Then she's still doing journalist work," he said looking down at the tile floor.

"No," Barbara corrected, "actually she's been an editor for the _Gotham Times _for about three months now."

Bruce looked up at Barbara's news. It completely baffled him.

"She said that journalism work just didn't feel right anymore," Barbara said looking distressed. "At first she tried to convince herself that she was back on top, but two – three months ago she called it quits."

"What could have happened that made her reconsider," he asked having a feeling Barbara knew exactly what happened.

"The memory of Marcus," she answered sadly. "She had an episode at work after hours. There was no one around. She had stayed writing another article on the Riddler. According to Mr. White, this was a reoccurring habit of hers; staying late after work."

Bruce nodded knowing exactly what Sylvia was like as a reporter.

"That night, led to a…'lapse in judgment' was what she called it," Mrs. Gordon continued, "She had called out to Marcus only to remember…"

Her voice faded letting Bruce finish the rest for himself. This new information had Bruce feeling terrible. Why hadn't he tried communicating with her? Why hadn't she tried contacting him? The blame would lay on him and no one else. She needed him at that moment of weakness and he wasn't.

"I think subconsciously she persisted with her journalism work to try to hang on to Marcus."

Barbara became teary eyed at the thought but she knew it was the truth.

"Her eyes would get so bright when she talked about him. The way they do when she talks about you," Barbara said with a smile that Bruce returned.

The moment was interrupted when Barbara's phone rang.

"Jim, where are you?" she asked into the phone. "Well, I'm here at the hospital. Mr. Wayne is here as well."

There was a pause as Barbara listened to the Commissioner.

"What…? Oh, god. Jim, be careful, please," she pleaded before hanging up.

"Is everything alright," Bruce asked.

"Apparently, the Riddler has himself holed up in a warehouse demanding Batman," she whispered to him looking worried. "He's claiming that he knows something."

Bruce felt rotten but he knew he had to go. If this was indeed the case then he would have to go and confront him. The past few months have been hell but it was time to bring the Riddler into custody.

"Mrs. Gordon-" Bruce began but Barbara interrupted.

"Call me Barbara, please," she said, "and go ahead Mr. Wayne. I'll tell her the situation."

"Thank you," he smiled before leaving the hospital for his car.

Sylvia laid in the hospital her knee wrapped tightly with an ice pack and her head stitched up and some gauze covering the wound. The room was dim and empty except for her and a table lamp situated on the small table beside her. Oddly silent, now that the doctors and nurses had all they wanted to run some tests to make sure she was genuinely alright, was comforting for Sylvia. The IV line attached to her left forearm was all that they left behind. Sylvia knew she was alright. Besides her lack of sleep and her poor eating habits, the doctors would find nothing wrong. But instead of finding comfort in that blessing and letting her mind rest, Sylvia found herself unable to relax and sleep evading her.

The door opening to her temporary room jarred her from her thoughts. Barbara walked in quietly, cautiously in case her friend was asleep. Seeing that she wasn't, Barbara smiled gently resuming her seat by the bed Sylvia was occupying.

"Hey," she greeted quietly, "How are you feeling?"

Barbara leaned over carefully pushing some hair out of Sylvia's face away from the bandaged cut. Sylvia returned her friend's smile tiredly.

"I'm just swell Barbara," was her sarcastic response.

Barbara chuckled from her chair but seeing Sylvia's solemn expression sobered her amusement. She knew what was wrong with Sylvia. It's the same thing that's been wrong for the past few months; Bruce Wayne.

"He was here," Barbara voiced cryptically, "but he was called away."

Sylvia's brows furrowed before she knew who they were talking about. Who else would they be talking about?

"Of course he was," Sylvia groaned not finding it within her heart to be angry.

No, she wasn't angry. She was worried.

"Why?" she asked.

"Riddler," Barbara answered indirectly.

It was clear Barbara didn't want to say much about the subject. This only put Sylvia more on edge especially now that she was reminded of why she was so relieved in the first place that Batman showed up.

"Barbara can you turn on the television," Sylvia requested unexpectedly.

When Mrs. Gordon looked as if she was going to suggest it wasn't a good idea Sylvia added, "It'll help me sleep."

As if on cue, Sylvia yawned and that pushed Barbara to agree. It looked like a tennis match was on.

"I'm going to be outside for a bit," Barbara said, "I need to call the kids make sure the sitter doesn't leave before we get home."

"Okay," Sylvia responded before assuring her, "If you need to go home, go. I'll be fine. I'm just going to get some sleep before its checkout time."

"I don't like the idea of leaving you here alone," she argued, "Plus, who will take you home. The doctor said it wouldn't be a good idea for you to drive."

"Dave offered to do it," Sylvia remembered. "I'll just give him a call when it looks like the doctors are done."

Sylvia could tell Barbara was hesitant but with a stern look, she agreed.

"Call me in the morning, please," Barbara lightly begged.

"I will, now get out of here," Sylvia said playfully with a smile.

With one last look over her shoulder, Barbara was gone and Sylvia was alone again. Springing into action Sylvia swept up the remote from the rolling table and switched the channel to GCN. They were still doing coverage of today's events, thankfully. Sylvia brought up the volume to hear Vicky Vale more clearly.

"…Gotham's heroic citizens from earlier are still here picking up after today's thrilling events," Vale summarized clearly through the screen before the camera panned out to include a tall, strong appearing man about his early forties. "I'm here with Mark Strandume who is a regular employee here at the ship yard. Now, Mark you had a front seat to all the action didn't you?"

"That's right, Ms. Vale," Mark answered respectfully. "I was behind the railing there sending information from the divers to Sam."

"You mean Sam Hallow the crane operator," Vale asked.

"Yes, that's right," Mark replied.

"Now, did you ever lose hope," Vale inquired some more, "We were speaking to Stacy Turner, one of the divers; she told us that she never did but did you? After all, you understood all the numbers and details when it came to the crane and the lifting of the storage tank, what were your thoughts?"

"You know, after living in Gotham for so many years, you learn to build a wall of hope made of steel," was his humble reply making the news anchor laugh, "Hope is never lost. I don't think anyone here tonight was going to give up the fight. They all threw themselves in completely to getting the Batman out of there that there was no way we weren't going to succeed. There were some admirable and brave people out here tonight."

"Thank you very much for your kind and inspirational words, Mark. It was a pleasure," Vale finished up before turning back to camera, "Don't go away, we'll be talking to Sam Hallow next; the talented man behind the crane work. Jack back to you."

"Admirable and brave are definitely two words I would use to describe every single one of those people down there at the docks tonight," Jack Ryder said admiringly. "Here again is footage from earlier tonight's astonishing rescue. Take a look."

Footage from the rescue filled up the screen with Vicky Vale narrating beginning with reciting Riddler's poem.

"That was the silent cry for help which spurred Stacy Turner and her two brothers, Joseph and Walter Turner to come here," Vale retold the picture showing the Gotham Bay, "To the Gotham City Shipyard."

"I thought of the only place in Gotham that had water and receptacles in close range to one another and bam! The Shipyard," a new female voice sounded.

Sylvia assumed it was Stacy Turner. The story being told urged Sylvia to sit up straighter giving the television her full attention.

"I told my brothers 'grab your gear we're going for a dive'," Stacy recalled with a laugh.

"For a dive, indeed," Vale's voice chimed, "Stacy and her brothers were the first to arrive at the shipyard. Her brother Walter recollects his thoughts when arriving."

"When we got out of the car, we were already in our wetsuits but my confidence kind of faltered when it hit me that he could really be anywhere in the Gotham Bay or not here at all," Joseph's baritone voice recited. "But Stacy narrowed it down when she said he would have to be near the dock within reach of the cranes used in this shipyard."

"The three siblings were in the water for the short time of fifteen minutes when Walter found the container holding the Batman," Vale narrated.

"It was pure luck that I stumbled upon it," Walter's form came up on the screen looking flustered; hair drenched hanging over his eyes. "We hadn't brought any of our high tech equipment we just had the stuff we kept in our car which were basically our flashlights and the flares.

"I immediately tried to make contact with him using Morse code but for the first ten – fifteen minutes we didn't get a response," Walter continued, "When we surfaced to talk to one another about what to do, there were already dozens of spectators standing at the dock and Mark, the shipyard worker, said his co-workers were on the way."

"Sam Hallow and Steve Hong were the two workers Mark was talking about…"

Vale's words coming from the television blurred as the footage became the center of Sylvia's world. The container was being pulled up. Having Vale's description of the dangers was unnecessary. It was obvious that the tank was too heavy and insecure. Sylvia jumped at the loud popping sounds the chains made as they snapped off. Her eyes began to water involuntarily as she listened to the panicked yells from the citizens and one of the worker's discouraging words nearby were caught in the news camera's microphone.

Tears of fear, however, turned to cries of elation as the recording continued. More than a dozen people jumping into the bay in attempts to save Batman from his watery grave. The picture that was made as they pried the doors open pulling out their fallen hero was truly overwhelming. And there was no one who deserved that kind of commitment than Batman and Bruce, Sylvia thought to herself as more tears fell from her eyes. How could she think she deserved someone like him? That was a riddle in itself. One that she will continuously ponder over for many years to come, she figured.

She would stop all communication with him. It was for the best. Being alone is something she could become accustomed to. She hoped. The way she'd been acting for the past few months, she wouldn't blame him if he didn't want anything to do with her. Marcus would have been ashamed.

Turning off the television, Sylvia curled into a fetal position closing her eyes against the internal pain and tears. All she wanted to do now was sleep.

**A/N: Liked it? Loved it? Hate it? Let me know in a REVIEW!**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: So sorry for the lack of updating. I've been working on this though, I promise. Thanks to ZabuzasGirl and shalmarrose for your lovely and encouraging reviews. And thanks to those who alerted, favorited, and are following. I love hearing what you guys think of this story. Enjoy!**

Chapter 12

The Riddler watched from a platform above as his goons were quickly incapacitated one by one by Batman. This was all part of the plan. He smiled smugly when he heard a gravelly voice behind him.

"Riddler," it said. The only man who he had failed to stump.

"Oh, hello Batman," he greeted, "I knew you would come."

He looked haughty with his cane in hand and his bowler hat worn like a crown with his question mark insignia decorating the front. To anyone looking in, they would think nothing special about him. No one would begin to contemplate what was happening inside of him. That there was a clock inside; ticking away the few precious months he had of life left. Not even the great Detective standing before him. Appearances could be very deceiving.

"I'm taking you to Arkham, Riddler," Batman said across the room.

A sly, conceited smile crept onto the Riddler's face; a very joyful smile indeed. He had something up his sleeve.

"Sure you can go ahead and do that, I'll come quietly," said Riddler calmly putting his hands up in surrender.

Batman stepped forward to grab him but Riddler held up a finger.

"But first," he started, "what do you think will happen when everyone finds out who is the man behind the mask, Mr. Bruce Wayne."

Batman froze as the weight of the Riddler's words sunk in.

"Believe me, it wasn't hard to figure out," he said smugly. "It was obvious whoever was posing as the Batman was of great wealth or at least had a benefactor," he revealed condescendingly.

Bruce just remained still and silent, listening.

"So I went to the top dog in Gotham; Wayne Enterprises. It wasn't difficult to infiltrate your place. All I had to do was walk in looking official and they left me alone to roam free."

Riddler pulled out a stack of papers from a folder lying in front of the computers and proceeded to wave them around tauntingly until finally throwing them down at Batman's feet.

"Go ahead take a look I have plenty of copies," he emphasized his point by sweeping up another folder and two discs. "You should really be careful with what you keep lying around."

Bruce quietly shuffled through the papers finding schematics from the Batpod and different receipts of orders made by the 'liquidated' RND department.

"Don't think that I didn't piece those ordered parts together," Riddler snapped not liking Batman's lack of response. "Some of those parts assembled together make that nifty grapple gun and…and…"

Riddler broke off falling back and leaning heavily against the desk behind him his right hand coming up to clutch his head. The thin man groaned in pain.

"Though desert men once called me God,/ Today man call me mad,/ For I wag my tail when I am angry,/ and growl when I am glad," he moaned brokenly.

"Edward," Bruce attempted but Riddler growled stopping his words.

"I know who you are! I know the answer to the biggest riddle of them all: Who is Batman?" Riddler shouted bringing the point of his cane down with a resounding clap.

Silence reigned between the two as they measured up one another; the Riddler with a pained smile and Batman with his ever expressionless face.

"You would tell everyone that answer, Edward," Batman asked, "After all they are inferior, so why give them the satisfaction of knowing who I am?"

The gleeful smile that was on Edward Nygma's face quickly vanished as his left eye twitched. There was silence for a moment longer as Edward thought it over.

"You're right," he breathed sounding exhausted and his shoulders slumping. "Why should I tell them?"

Edward collapsed into his seat looking ill. Inside Bruce knew that Edward Nygma would realize his identity. But then again, Bruce also knew how smug it made the Riddler to know that he had an answer that everyone wanted to know but were too blind to figure out.

"A cat," Batman voiced.

The man dressed in green eyed him carefully before chuckling shortly but gave no words of praise for his correct answer to the riddle he groaned through his pain.

"What can touch someone once and last them a lifetime?" Edward questioned looking at him eagerly yet the spark in his eye was not quite there.

The answer to the riddle was what kept him silent for just a moment. He observed Edward who sat pathetically with sweat now sparkling across his face. The man must be in agony but from what? Bruce couldn't tell.

"I know you know the answer," Riddler croaked, "and I know you know who I'm referring to."

Love, was the answer to the riddle and without a doubt he was speaking of Sylvia.

"Keep her close," Edward advised, "You think the explosive being absent from the car was an accident? Bombs are Joker's specialty. That car would have gone up in flames if he wanted it to but obviously he didn't. Joker's obsession with her is odd even for him."

His words echoed in Bruce's head as he escorted Riddler out to the police outside. The prisoner was taken out of his hands and into a police cruiser. Bruce could only hope that the Riddler wouldn't tell others of his identity. The satisfaction of being the only one to know will hopefully be enough for him for a long time. As he looked at Edward's form in the car, Bruce had a feeling it would be.

Batman stood in the back alley behind the building he and the Riddler had previously been in. Once Gordon got a chance he joined him.

"He'll be taken to Arkham," Jim told Batman who nodded.

"He knows who I am," Bruce revealed to the good Commissioner.

Jim looked panic stricken.

"We can get him a separate room in a different-" Jim said quickly trying to think of ways to keep the Riddler from having contact with too many people.

"It won't be necessary," he said shaking his head. "I convinced him that if the world deserved to know, they will figure it out for themselves."

Jim quietly chuckled. Batman was using the Riddler's own tactics against him.

"There's something else, Jim," voiced Batman from the dark. "He's in pain from something. I couldn't tell but it looked like the ache was coming from his head."

"I'll have him checked out, see what the doctors at Arkham can find," Jim promised.

"Make sure you take a look at the computer in there as well," Bruce recommended, "our answer may be in there."

There was a pause as he contemplated Riddler's advice before he asked, "Have you spoken to Sylvia?"

"I did," Gordon nodded. "I knew I couldn't stay mad at her especially after the nightmare today. Dave was taking her home."

Jim sighed looking up at the cloudy sky.

"It was nice seeing her out on the field again at first," he thought out loud remembering the month after their argument, "It almost felt like time had gone backwards to a better time, before the Riddler…before the Joker…"

"I think it felt the same for her," Bruce said referring to Marcus.

Gordon nodded in agreement and after another pause he began again, "You going to go see her?"

He turned to Batman but saw nothing but darkness. Looking around at the empty alley, he began to walk back to the other officers.

"One of these days I'm going to find out how he does that," he grumbled to himself as he exited the mouth of the alley.

Little did Gordon know that even with years of future acquaintance with the Batman that he will have, there will still be things that he will never know and Batman's disappearing act was one of them.

Sylvia entered her apartment letting out a relieved sigh. Her peace was short lived when Dave came in close behind.

"Are you sure you're not hungry?" Dave asked.

He had repeatedly asked her that same question ever since he had forced fed her three hospital meals before they left.

"Yes, Dave, I'm sure. I'm not hungry," she answered with force patience but she knew he was just trying to help.

"You have food for breakfast right," he asked putting her purse down on the sofa and turning to her.

"Dave, if it would put you at ease, you can go check my refrigerator yourself," she said indicating the kitchen with her hand.

"Thank you, it would," he said leaving the room for the kitchen.

Sylvia let herself fall onto her couch with a small oomph. She sighed cuddling up with the soft pillows enjoying the feel of being back in her apartment.

"You have a nice refrigerator," Dave yelled from the kitchen making Sylvia laugh from her place at the couch.

Dave came back to the living room coming to stand next to the couch as he looked down at her.

"Yeah, I have a lot of nice stuff in here, some new additions too," she said sitting up from the couch.

"So the place was rebuilt?" Dave asked hesitantly.

Sylvia knew he was referring to the explosion from the Joker.

"Yeah it was. And that is where the new additions came in," she said amused.

"Like?" Dave asked.

"Bomb detectors," she said with a wide smile.

"What?" he asked surprised. When Sylvia nodded Dave continued, "You're kidding."

"Nope, the _whole _building got some," she said shaking her head. "And it's all because of me," she continued as Dave laughed, "I felt pretty special about it, ya know?"

"Oh, Syl," Dave laughed as he walked to her bedroom, "Alright enough talk," he said turning on the light, "it's time for bed - You have a canopy bed?"

Sylvia let out a laugh at Dave's reaction to her luxurious bed. His face was contorted in disbelief with his arms outstretched in front of him to the bed.

"Wow, kids sure put a damper on things don't they," Dave said looking around her bedroom.

"Dave," Sylvia scolded lightly rising from the couch.

"I'm serious," Dave said, "I remember when I had my bachelor pad."

Sylvia stood in front of him at the doorway to her room, staring at him seriously.

"You and I both know that you wouldn't trade them for the world," she said ending with a smile.

Dave agreed completely with her. His family meant everything to him.

"Hope you don't mind me asking but…" Dave paused thinking whether he should continue with his question, "these past few months, how did you pay for this," he finished quietly.

"I didn't," Sylvia answered honestly. "Mayor Garcia got a pretty good deal for me. He gave me a few months free of the place to help me get back on my feet."

"How long do you have left," he asked figuring that deadline was rapidly coming to a close.

"About a month to get up enough money to pay for another month of this place…" she told him before continuing a bit more quietly as the truth began to settle itself in her mind, "I just don't think it's going to be possible. I have to pay for food, gas, car insurance…it's just not going to be enough especially since I pretty much de-promoted myself at work which meant a major decrease in my salary."

There was a pause between them as Dave thought of a way to help her out.

"I can give you the same salary again for a couple of weeks-" Dave put in but Sylvia was hearing none of it.

"No," she said forcefully, "I can't ask that of you-"

"But Syl-"

"-Dave I don't need any of this," she continued gesturing to her apartment, "So what if I have a robot for a refrigerator. So what if my coffee maker is a robot. That thing can tell me the time, have an alarm, tell me the date, heat up my water at a specific temperature but you know what it can't do?"

Dave shook his head having no idea where his friend was getting at.

"Make me a good cup of coffee," she groaned agonizingly making Dave chuckle, "Poor Marcus had to make me one every morning. I went to his apartment and saw his coffee maker and you know what? It was just a coffee maker nothing special. It didn't do anything else. Its sole purpose was to make you a good cup of coffee."

Sylvia sighed as she looked into her bedroom and said, "Who needs a canopy bed? Or a walk in closet? Or jets in the bath tub?"

"You have jets in your tub?" Dave asked making to go to the bathroom but Sylvia stopped him.

"Dave, focus," she told him.

"Sorry," he said making Sylvia smile at his silliness.

"My point is I don't need this stuff. I'll be fine in a small studio apartment," she said reassuringly.

Dave looked unsure but slowly nodded. Dave left a few minutes after that since Sylvia had assured him several more times that she would be fine. After he left, she took a warm shower.

**A/N: So what did you think? Hate it? Love it? Let me know what you think in a review!**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Here is a slightly longer chapter. I hope you all enjoy it.**

Chapter 13

The warmth did wonders for her muscles. When she finished she wrapped a towel around herself and went into her bedroom. Going to her drawers, she took out some pajamas and underwear and threw them onto the bed. A noise from her living room stopped her movements. She felt a chill go down her spine as she listened intently to the silence around her. She looked around for her purse which held her mace. Realization came to her when she remembered Dave had placed it on her couch in the living room. She groaned inwardly before grabbing a robe from her bed and tied it securely.

Sylvia quickly debated whether or not to turn off the lights. It would leave whoever the intruder was in pitch darkness and they probably didn't know the layout of the place. It gave her an advantage; however, it left her in a sticky place as well. She walked to her closet and grabbed her four cell mag-lite. Making sure it had juice left in it, she walked to the light switch and the room plummeted into darkness. She stood still waiting for her eyes to adjust before she went and closed the door to her bedroom and stood just inside her bathroom staring at the doorway.

Minutes past and Sylvia wondered if it was just her paranoia again. She tiptoed quietly to her door keeping her mag-lite in her hand ready to swing at anything that came her way. Her living room was empty from what she could see. It wasn't until a shadow crept past her window, did she realize that the person was outside. By that point, however, she had a pretty good idea who it was. She walked over and opened the doors leading out to her small balcony. It was dark since most of the inhabitants in the building were asleep. She looked over the edge watching as cars passed by, but it wasn't what kept her attention.

"Ya know, it isn't polite to stare," she said matter-of-factly. When only silence greeted her, she turned back into her apartment, closing the doors behind her.

Sylvia went to turn on the lamp in her living room when a hand grabbed her wrist in the darkness stopping her.

"Lights off then," she said shortly pulling her hand away from his uncomfortable grip.

She had her resolve firmly in place. They were better off without each other. Now she just had to make sure she didn't give in to her baser instincts.

"How are you feeling?" he asked his voice still gravely even when he was with her.

"Doing better," she responded.

It wasn't until that moment that Sylvia realized she was still in her bathrobe and just because she couldn't see much didn't mean he couldn't. She turned on her heel and went to her room to change.

"You stay here," she commanded before closing the door behind her.

Once she was dressed she opened her door again. She looked around blindly searching in the darkness for him.

"Where are you," she asked.

"By the couch," he whispered.

"I can't believe you came in your suit," she said with a hint of amusement in her voice.

"I just thought you would like to know that the Riddler is now in custody and being transferred to Arkham," he revealed.

Sylvia took a moment to let it sink and almost felt like crying but instead sighed with relief.

"Thank you for telling me," she said keeping her eyes on her carpet floor.

"I went to the hospital," he said after a slight pause.

"Barbara told me and she told me why you couldn't stay," she spoke feeling the tension building.

When it got so bad that Sylvia didn't think she could take anymore she decided to step up and be the first to apologize. Just because it was better they stay away from one another didn't mean it couldn't be on good terms, right?

"Look Bruce I'm sorry, okay?" she began feeling his eyes on her, "I admit what I did was pretty stupid and at first I really believed that I was trying to help. Nothing can excuse my behavior that night or any other nights where I stayed up thinking that it was work that I missed. I really thought it was, ya know? But even when I was working I didn't feel the joy that I thought I was going to. It turns out I just really missed Marcus… and no amount of work that I do could ever bring him back."

Sylvia paused wiping her eyes of the few unexpected tears that leaked out before continuing, "So I quit and I'm doing editor work now. Dave even gave me Marcus' old desk."

Bruce's silence was almost too much so Sylvia quickly thought of an excuse.

"Listen I have work in the morning so I should probably get some sleep," she said finally looking up into his eyes, "Goodbye, Bruce."

Before Sylvia could get to her door, however, Bruce turned her around and held her to him. He inhaled her smell as he heard her sigh into the embrace. Sylvia would be lying if she said that this wasn't what she wanted. If work hadn't killed her than her separation from Bruce would have surely done it. No, wait! Where did her resolve go?

"I'm sorry," he whispered into her ear, his voice normal.

Oh, that's right. Bruce had a way of tearing it down without even meaning to.

"Me too," she sniffed trying to tighten her hold but she knew it was impossible with the suit.

"I know I should have told you what was going on from the beginning but I thought I was protecting you," he said quietly. "You cannot believe how upset I was when I heard you were in danger."

"I have a pretty good idea," she said with a small smile remembering the news footage. "I love you."

Bruce placed a kiss on her head whispering back, "I love you, too."

The two held each other tightly for a few more moments before Bruce pulled away. He realized that if he wanted to be completely honest with Sylvia, then there wasn't a better time to start than now.

"The Riddler knows who I am," he told her looking into her eyes through the darkness.

Sylvia's eyes had adjusted to the dark and could now see his eyes. Bruce could sense her nervousness.

"I wish I could say I'm surprised," she muttered turning away from him and taking a seat on her couch.

"I convinced him to keep it to himself," he said joining her on the couch.

"How did you accomplish that," she inquired with a raised brow.

"I used his own methods," he responded mysteriously.

When Sylvia looked to him in puzzlement he explained.

"He now knows the answer to the 'most puzzling riddle known to Gotham', how could it possibly benefit him to tell the world? I told him they didn't deserve to know since they weren't smart enough to figure it out for themselves," he stated with a small but noticeable smirk.

Sylvia laughed and smiled bringing her hand to his face her right thumb brushing the bare skin around his mouth.

"My hero," she said playfully but there was sincerity in her eyes.

Something in the air changed in that moment and before Bruce could blink, Sylvia was on him her lips against his. He recovered quickly and returned the kiss enthusiastically. Was it wrong that this had been a fantasy of Sylvia's for a while? Bruce had never come over as Batman. The only time she got to see him in his suit was when he was 'working' and they were never alone. But now, Sylvia was going to take full advantage of the situation. Comparing the fantasy and reality, it dawned on Sylvia that it was much more uncomfortable and difficult than she had fantasized. The Kevlar suit was solid and cold. It wasn't something that she liked to feel against her skin. Bruce was having similar thoughts.

The suit was impairing him from feeling any of Sylvia's warmth besides their lips devouring the other. It was becoming increasingly frustrating. The situation got worse when Sylvia bit his lip and suckled it. His blood instantly went down to his middle. If he thought occurrences like this with Sylvia were uncomfortable in dress pants, it was pure agony with a solid suit. Without realizing it, Bruce's grip on Sylvia's hips tightened causing her to groan Bruce's name. The Kevlar clad man pushed the ex-reporter from on top of him. He was breathing hard; his eyes tightly closed trying to calm himself down. Sylvia became alarmed wondering if she had done something wrong.

"Bruce," she said touching his face again, "Bruce, are you okay?"

"Just give me a minute," he breathed.

Thinking quickly, not wanting for Bruce to stop, Sylvia went to straddle his lap bringing both her hands up to either side of his face. Bruce opened his eyes and gazed at the hypnotic and frustrating woman above him who was the only one to ever make him truly feel when he was in the bat suit. The only woman he could ever love without the bat suit and with it.

"How about you teach me how to take this suit off," Sylvia whispered seductively running her hands down the front of his ensemble.

Taking one of Sylvia's hands into each of his own, he slowly brought them up to the back of his neck; her dominant hand on his left side and her left hand on his right. Then, Bruce brought each of her index, middle, and ring fingers onto separate what Sylvia presumed to be buttons that were aligned down the middle section of his neck. Sylvia looked to Bruce for permission and when he nodded she pressed the buttons at the same time. It caused the center seam that ran from the base of his neck to the base of his skull to split apart. This in turn loosened the mask slightly. Bruce lowered his head as Sylvia pulled the section apart and brought the mask away. Sylvia set the mask aside and brought her hands back to the sides of Bruce's now bare face.

Bruce looked up at her, his stare intense causing a pleasant chill to run down Sylvia's spine. One by one pieces of the bat suit came off neither one of them predicting just how intimate the encounter would be. It was Bruce's own unique way of displaying his trust to Sylvia. She understood what it was and was honored knowing that he didn't give his trust lightly. The couple soon found themselves in Sylvia's bedroom spread out on her bed; skin against skin and explorations being made. The two locked eyes, both realizing just how far they were going but the two unable to find it in their selves or in the other to stop.

When the sun rose, it was to find the couple tangled with each other in a deep sleep. It wasn't until close to eleven in the morning that Sylvia began to stir. Feeling Bruce's arm around her middle she turned to her lover who was still fast asleep. She smiled blissfully to herself and quickly rose to begin breakfast, or, rather, brunch. She threw on her scattered pajamas and tiptoed out of the bedroom and to the kitchen.

Bruce awoke to the smell of something delicious and spicy. He was about to rise to investigate when Sylvia came in drying her hands with a cloth. When she saw him awake she blushed and smiled shyly.

"I was just coming in here to wake you," she said while nervously fiddling with her fingers. Bruce thought she looked beautiful, "I just finished making some breakfast and was wondering if you'd like to join me."

"Y-yeah, sure," Bruce spoke dragging himself from his thoughts of her. He looked around the room in search for clothes when he realized that he didn't bring any, "Uh…"

Sylvia laughed before pointing to a pair of overly sized sweats that she usually wore for lounging around.

"You can go ahead and wear those," she said before turning to leave, "I just hope they're big enough."

Bruce rose from the bed and slipped on the pants. They were a bit small at the waist but he just left them untied and just left them at the length they were in. He walked out of the bedroom to the dining table that was located in the living room behind the couch. The smells coming in from the kitchen were pretty foreign to Bruce but it did nothing to deter him. Instead of sitting where the places were set at the table, Bruce walked into the kitchen to find Sylvia at the stove. It sounded like she was flipping something with her bare hands. Bruce walked over quietly and wrapped his arms around her waist. Sylvia hadn't heard anything so when Bruce put his arms around her it caused her to gasp and jump in surprise. She settled, however, when she heard Bruce chuckle and she leaned back into his strong chest.

Peering over her shoulder Bruce saw that she was flipping tortillas over a flat cast iron. Sylvia turned off the stove and put the tortillas in a clean hand towel and folding them into the cloth to keep them heated. She turned in Bruce's arms to face him.

"Can you put this on the table while I take the plates, please," she spoke while holding out the towel to him.

"Of course," he said with a smile and taking the towel from her.

The two exited the kitchen after Sylvia grabbed the plates and sat down at the table across from one another.

"I hope you can stand jalepeños," said Sylvia putting Bruce's plate in front of him.

What Bruce saw puzzled him slightly. It looked to him to be eggs, with tomato, bits of onion, and jalepeños. It made Bruce want to laugh at himself when he realized he wasn't used to his food having so much color.

"It's a dish my mom made me when I was growing up," Sylvia explained, "It's probably my favorite breakfast dish."

Seeing Bruce's hesitation, Sylvia grinned and handed him a corn tortilla encouragingly.

"This might help," she smiled nervously.

Bruce smiled his thanks and followed her lead as she put some of the food onto the tortilla, rolled it closed and took a bite. The first taste that hit him was a blend of egg with the underlining fruity taste of the tomato. Then the spicy kick of the jalepeño came into the blend. Without realizing it, Sylvia stared at Bruce biting her lip nervously anticipating what Bruce's reaction would be to her food. Bruce held off a little longer purposely leaving Sylvia waiting. When Bruce finally turned to her with a humorous smile, Sylvia let out a breath of relief before huffing at Bruce's games.

"Delicious," the billionaire chuckled, "absolutely exquisite."

"Mhm," Sylvia said trying to be angry but knowing it was a lost battle and began to laugh with him. "I'm glad you like it."

The two ate with the occasional brief conversation both enjoying the company of the other. It was more silent, though, not uncomfortably so. The two were both distractedly thinking what the future was going to hold for them. Bruce knowing that he just couldn't live without the vibrant and strong woman in front of him. While Sylvia thought the same thing; that she just couldn't live without Bruce.

After everything the two had been through and still survived and were still willing to strive to stay together said a lot of each of them. Last night was Bruce's acceptance of Sylvia in his life. It was now up to Sylvia to seal the deal. As she gazed at the handsome man in front of her, it didn't take long for her to make up her mind. Yes, it was going to take a lot of work and yes maybe they were moving a bit fast compared to 'normal' couples. But, their circumstances were not categorized as normal. The two trusted and loved each other unconditionally, what else was needed?

As thoughts went through Sylvia's mind she realized that life was only going to get tougher from this point on. Like she had told Alfred, quitting her job with _GT _was not going to be the last or the easiest sacrifice she would have to make. Her life would be exposed in the tabloids. She and Bruce's life would be threatened every night when he went out as Batman. The Riddler proved that the villains were not going to stop rising. Was Sylvia scared? More scared than she ever was in her life, but she knew that with Bruce she could take anything on, as cliché as it might sound. It wasn't just her that needed him, but he needed her; someone to stand by him when things got tough. Sylvia would be his rock. The one standing next to him till the end.

"I love you," she said confidently.

Bruce turned up from his food and looked at Sylvia surprised at first but once he observed her he smiled. The determined look she had on her face reminded him of the time she had yelled at him in his penthouse, the night just before Marcus died. She had had such fire and it was in her now as she looked back at him. It was good to know that Sylvia still hadn't changed even after the incidents that had transpired the past few weeks. She was still the woman that he absolutely adored.

"I love you, too," he spoke clearly beaming at her with a smile.

Sylvia returned the smile before returning to her food. When the tough times came they would face them together rather than apart, but for now, life was perfect.

**A/N: Thanks for reading. Now, what did you think? Let me know in a REVIEW! Only takes a few moments and they are greatly appreciated. Thanks to everyone for following, alerting, favoriting and reviewing!**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Semester is almost over! Thought I would celebrate by putting this very delayed chapter up. Enjoy!**

Sylvia and Bruce sat in the penthouse awaiting Gordon. He had called claiming that there was some urgent matters he needed to discuss with both of them. Sylvia meanwhile enlightened Bruce over the happenings leading up to catastrophe on the bridge; the call from Harvey, the Joker's role. Then, Bruce filled her in about his observations towards the Riddler.

"So let me get this straight you think he's sick," Sylvia inquired appearing doubtful.

Although, she figured, that would explain his lack of activity and the continuous decline in the difficulty of his puzzles.

"Possibly," was Bruce's short answer. "I'll know more once Gordon gets here."

"Which will be any second now," Alfred announced as he entered the living room. "The front desk just called. They said the Commissioner was on his way up."

"Thank you, Alfred," Bruce said sincerely.

They sat in silence again until the elevator bell rang signaling James' arrival. Sylvia immediately stood heading to the reflective doors. When they opened she threw herself into the unsuspecting Commissioners arms.

"Hello, Sylvia," he breathed followed by a chuckle.

"How's it going, Jim," she asked with a smile pulling away.

Jim sighed looking to the ground as though he'd find the answer there. Truth was life hadn't been too good to him and his family. By the look Sylvia was giving him, she knew exactly what he was feeling. With one last hug, she pulled him into the penthouse.

Bruce stood from the couch holding out his hand to the Commissioner. Jim took the waiting hand with his own shaking it.

"Evening, Jim," Bruce greeted a smile on his face.

"Bruce," Jim returned grinning.

The situation between the two was still a bit awkward. Although the future looked much better now that it was clear that James knew his identity as Batman. It must have been understandably difficult for Jim to have gone through the past few months trying to keep his men away from the Batman after figuring out his identity. Bruce was more indebted to the man than he was before.

"So what do you have for us," Sylvia asked resuming her seat on the couch beside Bruce.

"A lot," Jim answered taking the offered seat across from the couple.

"Would you like anything to drink, Commissioner Gordon," Alfred asked as he walked into the room.

"No, thank you, Alfred," Gordon answered politely.

"Let me know if there is anything you might need," Alfred said before leaving the room again.

"Thank you, Alfred," Bruce called after him before they resumed their talk.

"You were right about the computer," Jim began putting the thick folder he'd been carrying onto the square mahogany coffee table between them. "That's only some of what we recovered. All of it is on here." He revealed placing a packed compact disk above the pile.

"What did you find," Sylvia questioned picking up the folder skimming over the first few papers.

"Remember that comment you made about a life changing event causing Riddler to escalate his crimes," he reminded her. After Sylvia's nod, Jim continued, "Your answer is on there."

Gordon pointed to the CD with a grim look.

"What did you find about Joker's escape," Bruce asked Sylvia reaching over and picking up the disc.

"Some very unsettling news," James admitted, "According to guards stationed in Arkham, Joker and Two-Face had started a confrontation with some of the other patients. They were planning a riot. For everyone's safety, they both were put into isolation. This all happened two weeks prior to the announcement of their escape and only two days before their actual escape."

"What," Sylvia asked dumbfounded.

"No one at the asylum realized two of their most dangerous patients were missing until two weeks after they had left Arkham," Jim revealed shocking the couple sharing the couch in front of him.

"Are you kidding me," Sylvia questioned outraged.

"I wish I was," Gordon muttered sincerely.

"How," Bruce asked Sylvia and Gordon noticing something in his voice change.

"Each doctor and guard that we spoke to said the same thing," Jim told them, "there had to have been a person who was covering for them because there was no way that a tray full of food coming back from a patient would have flown passed without a check in."

Jim rubbed his hands together feeling queasy going through this story but Bruce had to know the truth.

"We have a woman in custody," Jim revealed, "Joker was assigned to her when he was put into Arkham. Her name is Dr. Harleen Quinzel. Based on the surveillance tapes we recovered after a long search she was the only one going in and out of isolation where Joker and Two-Face were being held."

"You think she helped them escape," Sylvia guessed feeling anger and pity towards this faceless woman.

"We have pretty good evidence pointing to that," Jim agreed looking disheartened again. "Three hours of surveillance footage from the day they were said to have escaped is missing. She won't tell us anything."

They were silent as the new information was allowed to be absorbed and Sylvia couldn't help but begin to shake her head in astonishment.

"Only Joker," she mumbled fuming at the possibility of Joker worming his ideals into someone.

But if anyone was as clever and conniving as to get there way, it was definitely Joker. He was heartless enough to leave her behind; casting her off as a joke and nothing more.

"I hate to – uh – tease and leave," Jim joked half-heartedly after checking his phone, "but I'm expected home for dinner."

The three stood together shaking hands saying their farewells. Sylvia and Bruce walked with Gordon to the elevator and Sylvia reached forward to call the elevator. Jim turned back to her before he entered the elevator's entrance.

"I know that you feel some kind of connection with these super criminal types, Sylvia," he told her putting a hand on her shoulder before continuing. "Especially to Riddler since he was the one to reach out to you first but please don't feel responsible with what you find on that disc," he begged.

Sylvia was baffled by Jim's words but nodded her acceptance all the same. What was on that disc? The elevator doors closed behind Jim and Bruce was alone with Sylvia to ponder their friend's words as well.

Jim definitely had a point in Bruce's eyes. Ever since Riddler began his career in Gotham, Sylvia was right behind him writing her articles. Well, she had been. Riddler disappeared around the same time Sylvia switched to being editor. That's interesting. Was it just a coincidence?

Even after the doors closed the couple remained still both pondering – wondering. Bruce was the first to recover.

"How do you want to do this," he asked watching her reaction.

"I'm not sure," was her response, "I'm afraid to see what's on there."

Bruce's hands came up to her arms, turning her to him.

"You can't let him get to you," Bruce told her rubbing her arms comfortingly.

"If the Joker didn't succeed, what makes you think this guy will," Sylvia smirked with the spark in her eye that assured Bruce.

He smiled down at her bringing his knuckles up to her face using them to softly caress her face. The clock nearby chimed loudly alerting the couple to the late hour.

"I have to go," he said moving his arms around her waist.

Sylvia let her head rest on his chest as she curled her arms under his. Her hands massaged his shoulders. She wasn't quite ready to let him go.

"Be careful," she spoke customarily but she meant it wholeheartedly every time.

"I will," he said kissing her forehead before moving out of her embrace.

Long after Bruce left through the elevator, Sylvia remained standing, staring at the papers and disc adorning Bruce's coffee table. Picking up the disc gave her an unforeseen chill and she almost put it back down. Deciding to just wait for Bruce to come home and they could discover it together. Her curiosity was too great however and she sat herself in front of her closed laptop.

"Has Master Bruce gone," Alfred questioned her from the hallway.

Sylvia's face of surprise was comical but the butler only smiled keeping his laughter in check.

"I apologize for startling you," he voiced as he walked further into the room.

"Mhm," Sylvia hummed disbelievingly but smiled all the same, "Yes he left a few moments ago."

"I'll have the television on," Alfred sighed watching as she opened her laptop.

"Thank you, Alfred," Sylvia spoke typing in her password before proceeding to unpack the cd.

"Would you like some coffee as you work, Ms. Sylvia," Alfred asked.

"Yes, Alfred if you please," Sylvia answered with a grateful smile.

"Absolutely, I'll put on a fresh pot," he smiled in return before leaving her alone.

Sylvia's hand shook as she loaded the untitled disc into her computer. A box popped up onto the screen asking what she would like to do with the files on the disc. She clicked on the icon proposing to organize the information into files for easy access. The next box showed many files in alphabetical order. Instead, Sylvia chose to organize them through the dates they were last modified. Her intent was to find any that were altered during the time of his disappearance. And bingo! There were only two. One entitled 'untitled 57' and the other 'untitled 58'. Going with the earlier numbered one, Sylvia was transferred to a pdf file illustrating different graphs and what looked like x-ray scans.

The ex-reporter had no idea what any of the pictures meant. She wasn't a doctor. Although, you didn't need to be a doctor to understand the MRI scan depicted in one of the later pages. It was taken from a side view of the brain a box surrounding the cerebellum region of the brain. There was a white irregularity in the picture about the size of a quarter. Just below the picture were typed notes explaining the diagram above. It read:

Diagnosis: Medulloblastoma

Treatment: Tumor is inoperable

A large weight fell heavily into Sylvia's stomach. The report went on explaining different symptoms of Medulloblastoma and other facts but those first two lines were what held Sylvia's attention.

Sylvia clicked out of the document going for the next file on the list. However, there was a title above it that caught her attention. It was titled 'The Greatest Riddle of All'. The file was a regular word document and there was only one line adorning the otherwise blank page.

'How does one cheat death?'

Unwarranted, Sylvia's eyes began to water. This was it. This was the answer Gordon was talking about; the event that changed Riddler's behavior.

Riddler wasn't sick. He was dying.

**A/N: So glad I got this uploaded. Tell me what you thought in a review! Thanks to everyone who reviewed, followed, favorited and alerted! **


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: This is more of a recovering chapter but it does pick up again in the upcoming chapters. :D Thanks to everyone for their encouraging comments and those who have: alerted, favorited, and are following this story. **

There were absolutely no traces left behind. No clues. No leads. Nothing. It was as if the moment they left Arkham Two-Face and Joker ceased to exist. According to Gordon, no one at the asylum knew anything about the escape or they were just not talking. The poor woman Bruce had just left behind at the police department launched herself at him the moment he entered her sight. He chose not to enter the cell and simply question her from behind bars.

All she spent the time doing was shouting at him or ignoring him. She seemed to be convinced that he was the object of all her problems. Batman was the bad guy. And her 'puddin'' was just a poor victim.

The woman was delusional to put it nicely. Joker did quite a number on her. When Batman asked where Joker was, the blonde blue eyed woman simply smiled and said cryptically, "He'll be back for me."

"Then I'll be waiting," responded Bruce before taking his leave.

For the next couple of nights Bruce would just have to keep his eyes open and his ears alert for any information on the two villains. They would eventually have to surface again. Now, Riddler on the other hand was a different story. He was locked up in Arkham. They would just have to wait and see how long that lasted.

Batman sighed from on top of a hotel looking out at the quiet city below him. It was very tempting to just head home and crawl into bed with Sylvia. That decision was made for him shortly after the thought went through his mind.

"Master Bruce," Alfred's voice came through his radio embedded in his cowl.

"Yes," Bruce answered roughly.

"It's Ms. Sylvia," Alfred explained sounding worried, "She seems distraught about something but she won't speak with me."

"I'm on my way," he answered shortly before leaping off the edge of the roof and gliding toward his batpod hidden in an alleyway below.

After a moment of silence, Alfred spoke again.

"I didn't want to worry you, sir," Alfred apologized. "But she became very silent and I could see she had been crying."

"What had she been doing," Batman asked even though he already had an idea what had his girlfriend so upset.

"I assume she had been doing work on her computer," Alfred told him.

"I think I know what's bothering her," Bruce said quietly, "I'll be home soon."

After that, Bruce was in the tank on his way to the docks.

* * *

Bruce exited the elevator quickly. Alfred had been pacing in front of it only to halt in his steps as his ward entered.

"She's sitting in the other room," Alfred revealed gesturing toward the room.

The same room Bruce had been sitting in the morning after Rachel's death. As Bruce got closer sounds of sniffling could be heard. What had she discovered on the Riddler that made her like this?

All Bruce could see was Sylvia's silhouetted form sitting on the single couch looking out of the glass walls. The lights of Gotham shining back at her.

"Sylvia," Bruce called out through the darkness tentatively. "Sweetheart, are you alright?"

"How does one cheat death," Sylvia asked randomly causing Bruce to pause in his steps.

"Sweetheart," Bruce called out again a puzzled frown forming on his lips.

"It's a question I've wondered a lot in my life," Sylvia spoke her voice a bit hoarse, "more often now than before – what with my parents, the scare Gordon made us go through, and of course Marcus. It seems like death just takes us in the cruelest of ways."

"It's a question many ask themselves, Sylvia," Bruce replied resuming his trek toward her. "The answer is: you can't. There is no way to cheat death."

There was a short pause after Bruce's statement. The Billionaire came up behind her pondering his next move.

"How is it fair, Bruce," Sylvia broke the silence quietly, "When a person's greatest treasure becomes their downfall. It develops into the thing that will ultimately destroy them."

"Sylvia…" Bruce was at a loss for words.

He could see her face now. Half of it cast into shadow but what was dimly illuminated he could make out a shiny track of tears leading from her eye down her cheek.

"He's dying," she whispered.

"Who is," questioned Bruce with worry in his voice.

"Riddler – Edward Nashton he's dying," Sylvia voiced more clearly this time wiping the fallen tears from her face. "He has an inoperable brain tumor. Can you just taste the irony?"

Sylvia laughed bitterly as Bruce absorbed her words. The situation was worse than he had realized. He could understand why Edward's case would be so meaningful to Sylvia. Death in general was a sore spot for anyone.

Bruce came around the single couch bending over to pull Sylvia up. He then sat himself down with Sylvia now lying against his chest.

"I went scouring through tons of the documents on that disc and they were all just filled with unfinished riddles," she croaked, "Hundreds of pages of ideas that would go on and on and make absolutely no sense. Then they would come to an abrupt stop. Ever since the night I met him, he was so…I just figured he was bipolar or just crazy. Never would I have thought he was…Something inside me now understands why he reacted the way he did when he came back," Sylvia sniffed new tears developing in her eyes.

"So can I," Bruce agreed holding her close.

"But he still tried to kill you so I shouldn't feel compassionate, right," she asked innocently resulting in Bruce chuckling shortly.

"I don't think it was a sincere attempt," Bruce comforted, "I'm here, aren't I?"

"I saw the footage," Sylvia admitted feeling him stiffen. "I watched the news at the hospital."

"I'm sorry you had to find out that way," he said sincerely feeling guilty again.

He hadn't wanted to leave her at the hospital but Riddler had made his demands clear.

"You don't need to apologize," voiced Sylvia. "I'm just relieved those people were there when they were."

The couple sat there content to listen to each other breathe when a thought occurred to Sylvia.

"You're back early," she realized.

"Alfred was concerned about you and called me in," Bruce said, "It was a relatively quiet night so I came home immediately."

"So you didn't find any signs of Joker or Harvey," she questioned looking distressed.

"No," Bruce answered regrettably.

Sylvia gazed down at her lap making an effort to calm her rapid thoughts. Those two violent criminals were still out there. Who knew what they had planned next?

Bruce's thoughts were on a similar route. He wondered if he should tell Sylvia about Riddler's warning and whether or not he should enlighten his already troubled lover. He did promise to tell her everything…

"When I picked up Riddler," he began earning Sylvia's attention, "he said something that alerted me."

Sylvia waited patiently as Bruce paused.

"He said that Joker's obsession with you was odd even for him being Joker," Bruce revealed watching Sylvia's face intently, awaiting her response.

"He said the same thing to me the first night we met. I wasn't surprised then and I'm not surprised now," Sylvia said at last after a moment of silence. "He's completely unstable so it shouldn't come as a surprise to anyone. He's only obsessed because I'm the one that keeps getting away. He's intrigued."

"But not for the sanest reasons," Bruce added knowingly.

"Right," Sylvia agreed with a smile. "He just wants to see how long I can go. How many times I will escape Scott free. Kind of like the Batman."

Bruce shared in the smile for a moment before his worries came to the forefront of his mind. He had many concerns when it came to Sylvia. Now with the Joker boastfully showing his interest in her she was in more danger than he had thought. How many times could she get away?

"I'm stronger than you think," Sylvia whispered running her hand against his cheek soothingly.

"I know," Bruce said giving in to the offered comfort.

"Think of this as a blessing," Sylvia grinned. "Now I can be used as bait again. We'll have Joker back in Arkham in no time."

Bruce laughed shortly finding her statement both amusing and alarming. She was right. Joker would be making spectacles all over Gotham but ultimately he'll be after her. This time Bruce will be ready and waiting.

As he pulled Sylvia closer again he promised, "I'll always protect you."

* * *

The next morning, Bruce extended his arm out sleepily only to find the spot beside him empty and cold. He jolted up looking about the room finding it vacant of her presence as well. Bruce grabbed his robe and descended the stairs at a fast pace. His mind only focused on finding Sylvia. He heard her laughter coming from the kitchen area and felt himself relax.

"I never took him out horseback riding again," Alfred chuckled as Sylvia laughed beside him.

Sylvia clutched her stomach with laughter as Alfred served breakfast, neither of them noticing his presence at the doorway.

"Was he hurt," Sylvia gasped through her giggling.

"He suffered a sprained ankle and wrist but that was all," Alfred replied reaching over to the blender to serve Bruce's customary drink.

"That is hilarious," she said much calmer now.

"I'm glad my pain is amusing to you," Bruce spoke up leaning casually against the door frame.

Sylvia turned to him looking surprised but recovered speedily. Alfred was hardly taken by surprised and simply greeted him with, "Good morning, Master Wayne."

"Good morning, Alfred," Bruce returned.

"I found the story itself amusing," she corrected with a grin.

"That doesn't make me feel better," he teased good-naturedly.

"Oh, don't start pouting," Sylvia admonished jokingly. "Now, go sit down Alfred is about to serve breakfast."

Bruce turned and walked out to the dining room but stopped before he could take a seat. He never ate in the dining room. There was never a need to. Alfred always brought him breakfast in bed. Although, finding three places set at the table felt right. He wanted to have breakfast and every meal with the two most important people in his life.

"Here we are," Sylvia sang as she handed him his drink holding a plate of food in her other hand.

Alfred came out from the kitchen holding two other dishes. There was something missing as Bruce contemplated the portrait before him. Sylvia sat on the left with Alfred sitting across from her. His seat at the top of the table waiting for him but there was something missing. You can't miss what you have never had, Bruce pondered. This was a new experience, how was he to know if there was something absent.

"Bruce, c'mon sit down," Sylvia called to him. "You're food's getting cold."

Feeling better, Bruce took his seat looking forward to sharing a meal for the first time in a very long time.

**A/N: I know almost a little too fluffy but all well. I felt like the story needed to slow down for a bit before the next events. What did you think? Let me know in a REVIEW! **


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: Happy New Year! Hope this one is filled with great times for you. Thank you to everyone who favorited, reviewed, alerted, and is following. I haven't been feeling too well the past few weeks (yes, I know Happy New Year to me :P) but I've finally gone to the doctor so I hope to be feeling better soon. Anyway, on with the story!**

**Chapter 16**

Sylvia found herself moving in with Bruce sooner than she had anticipated much to Alfred's and Bruce's pleasure. It was almost as if she didn't have a choice. Joker knew about her apartment and would most likely use that to his advantage again. Plus, the month she couldn't make her payment for rent came fast. She was convinced the sooner she moved out the better. Bruce was there helping her gather her possessions.

Once everything was taken out, Sylvia gazed at her now bare apartment. It looked exactly as it had when she had moved in all those years ago. The place held so many memories: memories of her parents helping her move in, many with Marcus coming over for dinner and on weekends. The best journalist partnership Gotham had ever seen standing over her dining table running over ideas for stories. They were all memoirs from a previous chapter of her life; recollections that will always be cherished and held near and dear to her heart. She hadn't realized just how much she'd miss the place until it was emptied of all her personal things. This was the first step to truly letting go of her past and looking forward to the future with Bruce.

"Ready," Bruce asked from behind her at the entryway.

He'd been standing there watching her for a few minutes. The move would be hard for her, he had foreseen that. That was why he had insisted that they do it together. Bruce took a few steps in coming up behind her and wrapping his arm comfortingly around her hoping to demonstrate that she had his support. Sylvia sighed letting her stiff shoulders finally relax.

"Yeah," she nodded letting herself be cradled by him.

Bruce led her out of the apartment matching her steady pace. Sylvia closed the door behind them hearing it lock steadfastly. The new locks that were put in required a card key. Sylvia smiled impulsively at yet another memory. The renovations the whole building had to go through in order to insure the safety of their tenants.

"Let's go," she said pulling Bruce by the hand toward the elevator.

"I got another for ya, Syl," Rodger called out passing her a folder of papers.

"Another," Sylvia asked sounding overwhelmed and to be honest she was.

She had no idea how being an editor had its ups and downs. Sometimes it was a slow day and others her desk was filled with stories from hopeful journalists.

"I'll give ya a tip," spoke Rodger as he was leaving her desk. "Don't bother readin' the ones on the same topic. Go with the one with the better pictures."

"Is that even ethical?" inquired Sylvia with an eyebrow quirked.

"Ethical probably not," Rodger shrugged, "but better than being here till midnight? You bet."

"Thanks, Rodger," Sylvia laughed before falling back into her chair.

"Hey Sylvia," another voice sounded from behind her.

"Yes!"

The voice belonging to another editor named Josie.

"Guess who is making front page again in the gossip section for the fourth week in a row," taunted Josie with the freshly printed section in hand.

"Are you kidding," groaned Sylvia her hands coming up to cover her face.

"You know you like it!"

Josie walked away from her obviously stressed co-worker to tackle some of the work cluttering her desk as well. Sylvia stared at the ceiling wondering yet again how long it would take for Gotham to get over the fact that she – famed Sylvia Juarez – was now living with their prince, Bruce Wayne. There has got to be more juicy stuff to write about.

Sylvia groaned again before sitting up to get back to work or at least she would have if a commotion hadn't started up near the televisions.

"It's the Joker."

Sylvia heard someone gasp before her attention was also put on one of the monitors closest to her cubical.

'Joker Slaughter?' was the line that decorated the bottom of the screen as the footage showed police and ambulances parked out front of an apartment complex; _her_ old apartment complex to be exact. The caption below the title read 'Couple Found Brutally Murdered in Apartment'.

"Police are keeping tight lipped about this shocking discovery made this morning of the new to Gotham couple, Jeffrey Torrid and his wife Linda. All that we can confirm at the moment is that a joker card was found on the scene," Jack Ryder reported.

"Commissioner Gordon had made an appearance but could not be located to make a statement about this horrific event."

Sylvia felt a hand on her shoulder. She spun around to find said Commissioner Gordon looking grim.

"He's made his move," said Jim shortly knowing Sylvia would understand his meaning. It was time to jump into the plan they had set up weeks ago in case something like this occurred.

"They were in my apartment," Sylvia breathed feeling pity and guilt for the couple.

"I'm afraid so."

Seeing her face of agitation Jim brought both his hands onto her shoulders looking her square in the face.

"You can't blame yourself," Jim advised her, "You couldn't have possibly known this would happen."

"We knew he'd come looking for me," Sylvia insisted.

"Sylvia," he clutched at her arms trying to pummel his next statement through her thick skull, "there was nothing _any _of us could have done."

The editor sighed in resignation nodding her acceptance.

"So what happens now," she asked resolutely.

"We wait," Jim admitted feeling defeated that there was nothing more substantial he could do.

"I really appreciate you doing this for us, Jim," Sylvia voiced her tone sincere, "I know it's not like it was when you were Lieutenant. You don't have as much time on your hands."

The two friends shared a smile briefly. Most of Sylvia's co-workers were now perfectly aware that the Commissioner of Police was standing in their presence speaking to one of their own. There was going to be lots of gossip about this for the next few days.

"I'll have some of my guys patrolling close by," James confided, "If they see anything suspicious around they know what to do."

"If Joker gets through I'll text you and our mutual friend," she whispered cluing Gordon in on exactly who she was talking about.

"Immediately," Gordon stated strongly. "He won't be so keen in letting you get away this time, Vee."

"Immediately," she promised with a nod.

Jim hugged her briefly before leaving. Sylvia watched him go feeling several eyes observing her. Yup, tons of gossip was going to follow her around for sure. Most didn't know the kind of relationship she held with the Commissioner very few did.

As the day went on Bruce called wanting to make sure she was alright. He had gotten all the details from Gordon but nothing that he wanted to disclose over the phone. They would speak about it when she got home. She would need to get home early then. No doubt Bruce would want to go out patrolling tonight. For the first time ever, Sylvia placed her life before her work and jetted home the moment seven o'clock rolled around. It wasn't really a choice. Dave had come down blocking her cubical begging her to go home. She relented and hitched a ride home with an awaiting Alfred.

Alfred had become her own personal chauffer ever since she found herself without a car. It was never a problem, though. Sylvia enjoyed Alfred's wit and sense of humor.

"What would you like for dinner, Ms. Sylvia," Alfred asked from the driver seat.

"Anything, Alfred," declared Sylvia, "I'm starving."

She wasn't really but she didn't want to show her worry to Alfred. The situation was different now from the first time Joker had come barreling into her life. Now, she recognized what the Joker was capable of. And, this time she had Bruce.

When they got to the penthouse, Bruce was waiting impatiently in front of the elevator waiting for them. He enveloped Sylvia in a warm embrace the moment she stepped out of the elevator. Alfred smiled admiringly at the smart couple before excusing himself to the kitchen.

"It was a couple, new to Gotham and they had only been in your apartment for about two weeks," Bruce explicated as they found themselves on the couch. "He's made it clear he's coming after you. Believe me Sylvia it's better that you don't know."

Bruce assured her as she was about to ask him to elaborate. She took his word on it however. It probably was better that she not know.

"What's the plan," she asked.

"I've had Lucius install a new feature to your phone," he informed her bringing out an iphone from his pocket.

"That's not my phone," Sylvia realized bringing out her Blackberry.

"It is now," Bruce countered with a smirk. "All you'll have to do is press 7, 6, 7 and it'll send an alert to me and to Gordon. You keep that with you at all times."

"And?" Sylvia inquired wondering and hoping that there was more.

"And we wait for the Joker to strike," he voiced reluctantly.

"Why do our plans always involve waiting," she thought aloud.

She understood perfectly but the situation was getting to her. Bruce wrapped an arm around her comfortingly understanding her plight. It was difficult for him as well. He'd been staying home from work more often than normal. Instead he spent his days at the makeshift headquarters awaiting something like this to happen; for the Joker to make his move.

"Believe me when I say this situation is frustrating for me too," Bruce confided holding her closer.

Sylvia nodded knowing it was the truth. The problem with Bruce was he refused to think outside of the box. Sylvia smirked into his embrace conspiringly. There was much to do in preparation for her showdown with Joker.

"Don't worry, Bruce," Sylvia reassured him. "Joker won't know what hit him."

Five days passed without delay and no appearances from the Joker. It was a relief but a curse. Bruce knew the demented clown was just waiting in the wings awaiting his cue to make his grand entrance. Sylvia tried to assure him but every day was a struggle to see her leave for work, especially when she didn't come home immediately after work that evening. Bruce suspected the worst but got a call from Sylvia explaining that she was held up at work.

"Don't worry I'm not alone. I'll be home soon," she told him.

It was only a temporary relief but she did arrive home a few hours after that call; alive and well and with a huge smile plastered on her face. Along with some sweat adorning her forehead.

"What's for dinner," Sylvia asked simply before heading for their bedroom.

"Spaghetti and meatballs," Alfred answered from beside Bruce.

He had just been speaking some reassuring words to Bruce when Sylvia had stepped out of the elevator.

"Sounds great," Sylvia answered from the bedroom.

Alfred watched as his charge followed after the woman before he saw himself back to the kitchen.

Bruce entered the bedroom leaning against the doorframe and observing as his lover kicked off her heels letting out a sigh of relief.

"Everything okay," he inquired.

"Yup everything is just fine," she voiced excitedly before jumping up from the bed and embracing him. Bruce was a bit taken aback but didn't complain. Sylvia brought their lips together for a resounding kiss.

"Wow," he murmured when she pulled back, "what was that for?"

"For being perfect," she whispered to him.

"Uh-huh," Bruce hummed with disbelief, "What happened at work that has you so cheery?"

"I guess, I just got a lot done today," Sylvia replied letting her head rest against his warm chest.

Bruce held her in return as he spotted a duffle bag peeking out from the other side of the bed. That was not something he'd seen before. Why did Sylvia have it?

"What's with the duffle bag," he asked.

"What duffle bag," Sylvia questioned pulling away.

"That one," Bruce pointed, "the one you walked in with."

"Oh," Sylvia squeaked, "it's uh – some work stuff Steve wants me to work on. I need to take it into work tomorrow."

"You put it in a duffle bag," Bruce chuckled.

"It's a lot of stuff I didn't really think where else to put it," she defended moving the bag to an arm chair by the window.

"And why didn't you just leave it at work," he inquired with a smirk.

"I don't exactly have an office to keep things in anymore, Bruce," Sylvia answered shortly and a bit snappishly.

She had a point. Bruce apologized not quite sure why he was asking so much about the bag or why Sylvia felt so serious about it. Silently, the couple agreed to let the subject go and head for dinner.

At dinner, Bruce brought up another question.

"You'll be staying after on Friday?"

"Don't I always," Sylvia asked lightly.

"I was hoping you wouldn't," Bruce admitted eyeing her sincerely.

Sylvia gazed at him in return, her mind buzzing with responses that could work but she wanted to pick the correct one; the one that would put Bruce at ease.

"I've already briefed Gordon on what my schedule has been like for the past few weeks that the Joker has been likely watching me," Sylvia reminded him, "It is more likely that he'll strike on Friday and that's why…"

Sylvia lost her train of thought as she watched Bruce turn down to his semi-empty plate with a blank look. He was concerned she understood that. That was the only reason he was bringing it up again even though they had discussed this time and time again with and without Jim.

"Bruce, it's going to be fine," she voiced quietly touching his tensed hand with her own comforting one.

Bruce turned his hand into hers soaking up the relief she was offering. He desperately wanted to believe those words, however, the plan they had in place was not enough to put his mind at ease. He needed to be there with Sylvia.

As a substitute, Bruce had tapped into the _GT's _security cameras. It calmed his nerves at first but his mind would return to the hindering distance. The _GT _building was more than thirty miles from the Tricorner Yards where his temporary headquarters was located. It was better for him to be at Wayne Enterprises which was only twenty miles or so from the building. Problem was Bruce didn't have the ability to watch the camera feed from his desk or quick access to his suit. G.C.P.D headquarters was only two blocks from Wayne Enterprises so they would not be any more efficient than him getting to Sylvia. Police could not be stationed in the building or nearby in the event that Joker noticed. If Joker saw the police he would know they were waiting for him. In that case he was less likely to take the bait: Sylvia alone.

"The moment I know he's there," Sylvia promised gripping his hand.

Bruce nodded before they both returned to their meals.

**A/N: Please, please review! Even just typing a few words is welcomed. Let me know what you thought. I should be updating again real soon! Thanks. **


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

Friday morning came abruptly but predictably. Sylvia rose early as she normally did and ate her oatmeal with fruit. When she was finished, she said her goodbyes to Alfred and headed for the living room. Bruce stood there already dressed for his day at the office – this was not typical. Sylvia looked at him in surprise. He had not gotten in until close to five in the morning from his nightly ritual. The circles under his eyes were enough evidence of his exhaustion.

Sylvia adorned her coat and giggled lightly as Bruce attempted to stifle a yawn.

"I'll see you later," she reassured him with a smile.

Bruce returned it before bringing his arms around her waist holding her firmly to him; the smile now gone from his face. He was attempting to seem nonchalant but Sylvia could read him easily. The ex-reporter then wondered if Alfred or Bruce could read just how severely uneasy she was.

Sylvia pulled away but Bruce cupped her face halting her movements. He observed her fresh face and her guarded eyes. He leaned into her enabling his lips to meet hers. They stood there for several seconds allowing themselves this comfort. Bruce kept his hand on her lower back pressing her into him while his other caressed her cheek.

"I have to go," Sylvia pointed out regrettably. Bruce nodded unwillingly bringing his arms stiffly to his sides.

"I'll be closer than you think," he swore firmly causing Sylvia to smile.

"I love you," she said as a farewell before calling the elevator.

"I love you, too," he returned not allowing his apprehension to cloud his speech.

Sylvia waved from the inside of the elevator as they closed. Once the elevator closed, Bruce immediately sprang into action but he was halted just as quickly.

"If I may, sir," Alfred called stepping out into the living room.

Alfred was dressed in his traveling coat and carrying coolers which Bruce figured was filled with their breakfast, lunch and probably dinner. The butler looked as if he was prepared for a stakeout.

"The car and all the essentials we'll need are ready and waiting," Alfred informed his charge with an expectant look.

It seemed Bruce was not the only eager one. The two had a plan that they had not told Sylvia about. When Alfred had sat Bruce down it was as if Alfred had the solutions to every problem. How could Bruce be close to Sylvia but still have an eye on the surveillance? Alfred would be stationed at HQ watching the feed while Bruce, dressed in his garb, would be waiting at Wayne Enterprises.

Alfred dropped Bruce off at the office and continued driving to the Ship Yard. It took about twenty minutes for Alfred to reach his destination and went through the steps of setting up the computer to access the _GT _security feed. He was surprised, though he probably shouldn't have been, to find that Bruce had tapped into mostly all the cameras set up within the _GT _building. Better safe than sorry, Alfred thought to himself before taking turns observing closely each live video.

Meanwhile, Bruce tackled all he needed for the day before heading to Applied Sciences below. He half expected Lucius to already be there, as his office had been soulless, but found the floor empty but everything already set up for him. There was a sudden chime that interrupted the customary hum of the Applied Sciences floor triggering Bruce to bring out his phone. A text from Alfred letting him know everything was set up on his end.

Getting back on task, Bruce set out to find his suit. He opened a few drawers finding most uncharacteristically empty. Usually, Fox had spares of all of his gadgets.

"Ah, Mr. Wayne," Lucius greeted heading toward the Billionaire, "Looking for your suit?"

"Yes, I am," Bruce grinned.

Lucius, looking amused, gestured for Bruce to follow him into an adjacent room. The Tumbler was parked and his suit neatly hung up beside it, along with some of the other tools he'll need.

"Perfect, thank you Lucius," Bruce praised meanwhile moving toward his suit.

"If that's all you'll need Mr. Wayne, I should be heading back up," Lucius told him before heading back to the elevator.

Strangely, the way Lucius stated that made Bruce feel a bit suspicious. It almost seemed like Lucius was running away.

"Actually, Lucius," Bruce stopped him before his friend had time to call the elevator. Lucius turned back almost reluctantly and his expression noticeably blank. Satisfied Bruce continued, "Where is everything? I've never seen those drawers empty. Wasn't there a spare suit in there?"

Lucius looked over at the drawers in question.

"Yes, there is one but I've recently been working on it," Lucius said truthfully.

Bruce nodded wondering why or what Lucius was doing with it.

"Can I see it," Bruce asked but Lucius was already shaking his head.

"No, it's – uh," Lucius stumbled before his shoulders slumped and he sighed. "It's not here."

Bruce's eyebrows rose in surprise at Lucius' short admittance.

"Mr. Wayne, I will tell you more at a later time but right now I must get back upstairs," Lucius told him before he finally called the elevator leaving Bruce with lots on his mind.

Bruce couldn't remember a time or situation where Lucius hid something from him. Today was not a good day for his friend to be acting so oddly. His mind was on Sylvia, that's all that needed his immediate attention right now. Bruce put on his headset he normally had only for Batman to simplify his communication with Alfred.

"Alfred, can you hear me," Bruce asked listening for a response.

"Hello, sir, I can hear you loud and clear," Alfred replied swiftly. "There is nothing to report so far."

"Good," Bruce said, "Careful though Alfred, Joker is sly. He'll easily find a way in."

"Nothing will get past me, sir," Alfred assured him. He felt like he was back in the army.

Bruce smirked knowing exactly what was going through his guardians' mind. He muted his end and leaned back into the chair he was occupying. Spotting the television, Bruce tuned into the local news channel as background noise while he did some maintenance on a few of his devices.

Back at the docks, Alfred sat in front of the computer vigilant and expectant while eating his pre-prepared lunch. Nothing seemed out of place. Sylvia sat behind her desk working diligently only to accumulate more and more. It was no wonder she had to stay after hours. Alfred remembered a conversation Sylvia and he had had a few days prior. Fridays were normally heavy days especially as an editor. Most big stories happened on the weekend and editors had to anticipate such events. Alfred continued to watch the cameras looking out for anything suspicious.

Hours went by before anything happened. A siren permeated the gothic visage of the otherwise silent Arkham Asylum on the other side of the city.

None the wiser, Alfred remained diligently observing the screens. Peculiar, he thought whilst looking at the floor Sylvia was located. Her cubicle was now the only occupied. There were only few editors and photographers on the floor and it looked like they had all vacated for some reason.

Suddenly, news coverage took over the screen Bruce was watching. Vicky Vale stood professionally in front of Arkham reporting about a possible breakout that had just occurred. In broad daylight, Bruce questioned mystified. The sun was already setting but it was still too early in the evening for something like this to happen. There was only one person who was cocky enough to break from Arkham at this hour. Bruce was at an impasse. Did he wait for the Joker? Or head for Arkham in search of Riddler and hope Joker did not make his move? It didn't look like Bruce had to make that difficult choice.

"Sir," Alfred came through, "I'm losing the security feed."

"Which ones," Bruce asked pulling on his mask.

"All of them," Alfred watched in bewilderment as the screens went blank one after the other.

Bruce jumped onto his Bat-pod opting to not take out the tumbler. It was too conspicuous for the daytime and it would slow him down getting through traffic. He chuckled to himself. As if he was not noticeable enough.

"The feed is returning," Alfred informed him.

The cameras were one by one coming back online only to show nothing out of place. Nothing had changed. Alfred concentrated on the live footage trying to find even the slightest of differences especially in any openings that could be used as an entrance into the building. Joker was not in view. Even the cameras in the elevators were back yet showing no one inside.

"I don't see him, sir," the butler said succinctly.

"Keep looking Alfred," Bruce responded zooming out through a passage leading up to an alleyway behind Wayne Enterprises. "I have a feeling he's already there."

"What makes you say that, sir? It could have merely been a malfunction," Alfred suggested hoping that it was true.

"Riddler has just escaped Arkham," Bruce answered while manipulating his way through the lunch hour traffic. "Joker will likely use this opportunity to get to Sylvia knowing the Police and the Press' attention will be elsewhere."

At that moment, Alfred watched Sylvia rise from her place at her desk. She stood at her desk motionless for a moment before heading off camera only to appear in view of another. Sylvia walked off screen once again this time through a door: the women's bathroom. Abruptly the screen went black along with four others. All five located on Sylvia's floor.

"Sir, hurry," Alfred urged feeling anxiety begin to seep in, "all the surveillance cameras on Ms. Sylvia's floor just went out."

Bruce took in a deep breath hoping to keep calm as he dealt with the frustrating. He had yet to pass Grant Park. It was time to call for back up.

"Alfred, has the alarm connected to Sylvia's phone been triggered," Bruce asked.

"No, sir," answered Alfred without pause.

"Then that means Gordon didn't receive it either," Bruce concluded rapidly, "I'm going to need you to send a message to Gordon alerting him to Sylvia's situation."

"Right away, sir," Alfred consented beginning his given task instantly.

Finally, passing the park Bruce proceeded to turn left finding this street clearer than the main road. All he could do was silently hope that today Joker wanted to take his time.

**A/N: Thank you so much for the reviews! Looks like the next chapter will be about seven pages or more in length; a lot happens :D **

**PLEASE REVIEW!  
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	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: Nice and long one to make up for my lack of updating. Hope you like it! :)**

CHAPTER 18

Sylvia stayed behind at the office as she often did nowadays instead of following her co-workers to lunch or, in today's case, Arkham Asylum where a breakout had occurred. No details so far had been released to the Press but Sylvia was confident that would soon change. After all, most of the journalists out there right now followed after her example. Sylvia smirked wryly to herself as she took another bite of her cold turkey and medium cheddar sandwich.

Keeping her gaze on the report in front of her, she rubbed her hands together off the side of her desk ridding them of crumbs left behind. It was then that a heavy ominous aura seeped its way into her otherwise peaceful space. Instantly, her arms pricked with goose bumps and the tiny hairs on the back of her neck stood on end.

He was here.

It was now obvious that he would use this opportunity to come for her. Sylvia didn't even bother waiting for him to make his presence known. Rising from her seat, she stood for a bit attempting to sense where he could be hiding. The editor grabbed her new white iphone and headed straight to the bathroom.

Joker watched from his convenient shaded corner as Sylvia entered the bathroom. It was convenient because there were no cameras pointed down this short hallway and, thanks to the glass housing of the office across from him he had a perfect view of his troublemaking reporter's desk as a reflection. That is until he watched her venture into the bathroom. He stepped out of the shadows and into the main area with all of the desks. He paused to wave maniacally at one of the cameras only to come to an unforeseen conclusion. It was no longer recording. The absence of the little, red, incessant light told him so. Taking a quick detour to the other cameras on the floor brought up the same deduction. Something was not right. Suddenly, the sound of something falling in the bathroom caught his attention. It sounded like something heavy…like a body. Joker growled loudly. He did not like being messed with. His gut told him that the police had no hand in this.

He headed straight for the bathroom ready to yank his journalist out by her hair. Joker reached for the door only for it to be thrown open. Having no time to move out of the way, the door made solid contact with his forehead. The Joker stumbled back and lost his balance his back hitting the wall opposite from the women's bathroom. He slumped against the supporting with a pained chuckle that strongly resembled a groan. Suddenly his view of the dark gray carpet that adorned the floor was blocked by a pair of dark burgundy (they would have been seen as black if not compared to the body of the figure's armored suit), lace-less combat style knee high boots.

As his gaze rose to take in his assailant, Joker found the boots ended just below the knee in a dipped "V" shape. The curve hugging suit resembled the Batman's very strongly including the insignia adorning her ample chest. Unlike the Bat's, however, this suit's gloves, arm bracers, boots and insignia were a dark maroon color. It was the mask that was the defining difference between Batman and this…woman. Her mask did not cover her whole head like the Bats. This one wrapped below her long loose curled vivid red hair exposing more of her cheeks but covering her ears and from her nose to her forehead. The mask was topped off with two sharp pointy ears at each side of her head.

The armor cladded figure's dark eyes bore into his with palpable hatred. Joker let out another chuckle before he was yanked up roughly by his collar. She held him up with her right arm below his chin.

"Hello, Joker," the figure spoke.

* * *

Batman swerved around the cars as he approached Miller Harbor. He was finally more than halfway there.

"Sir, the police are less than twenty minutes away from Sylvia," Alfred informed him.

"I'll be there in ten," Bruce said determined. "Has the feed returned yet?"

"No, sir," Alfred answered.

The butler had been working on it since the monitors had gone blank. There was something blocking the signal. Another party was getting access to the footage. Problem was it was undetectable.

"Sir, there are men now stationed inside the main entrance of the building," Alfred observed, "As well as in front of the elevator entrances and stairs."

"Joker's men," Bruce asked.

"Yes, sir," Alfred answered, "They are each adorned with those ghastly clown masks."

* * *

Her voice sounded husky but intimidating at least to anyone else it would have had that affect but this was the Joker. He was never intimidated.

"Well, hi there, doll face," Joker wheezed out through her tight grip, "Who are you supposed to be?"

"No one of importance," she answered swiftly.

Joker looked over her Kevlar clad shoulder into the bathroom. Just there, at the bottom right hand corner of the open doorway, Joker spotted the end of Sylvia's long and dark brown hair.

"Don't worry about her," she growled regaining Joker's attention, "a little chloroform never hurt anybody."

"Oh, gee, thanks," Joker gushed, "You did some of the work for me! Thanks so much."

The masked woman snarled before pulling him towards her and resoundingly slamming him back into the wall.

"You're not going to touch her," she affirmed holding him tightly.

"That's where you're wrong, sweet cheeks," Joker told her licking his lips at the end. "You see me and Sylvia go way back. I was only coming to pay her a long overdue visit."

"Is that why you killed that couple who was living in Ms. Juarez's apartment," she asked shaking her head, "No it wasn't. You killed them to send a sign – a warning – that you were coming for her. There's nothing innocent about you Joker."

Joker let out a loud amused guffaw.

"You know sweets," Joker began through his amusement, "I was expecting Bats to be here – even hoping for it – but now that I've run into you – "

"I don't work with the Batman," she interjected unwaveringly.

With a growl, Joker was thrown to the ground. Behind him, he heard the distinct click of a door locking followed by a door slam. Joker picked himself up and turned to the woman. The bathroom door was now closed with her standing in front of it almost like she was standing guard.

"I'd like to see you get to her now," she said jiggling the knob of the door showing him that it was without a doubt locked. "The only way to unlock it is on the other side of this door."

This mystery woman was beginning to irk him.

"Then how about I just take you then, huh?" Joker asked while taking steps to close in on her, "How does that sound?"

The clown grabbed her wrist but abruptly the tables were turned. The lower arm he was holding swiftly turned in a circle effectively twisting out of his grip and now holding his arm captive. She took a step behind him bringing her other hand up to his shoulder. Using her hand on his shoulder to push him forward, her left leg in turn swung back successfully swiping his feet from under him. Within seconds Joker found himself becoming intimately familiar with the carpet.

Joker chuckled again rolling over onto his back.

"Are you sure you don't work with Bats?" he questioned.

"You stay away from Sylvia Juarez," she commanded.

Before Joker could say anything else, the masked woman kicked her foot forward to his head causing him to lose consciousness.

* * *

Bruce found himself shocked speechless as he stood on the roof of the building across the way from the _GT _building. Using binoculars, he could see into the ninth floor where Sylvia's desk was. What he saw was not something he was expecting. A dark cladded figure stood over a seemingly unconscious Joker just finishing tying him down to a chair.

Finally, the sounds of sirens could be heard. It looked like both himself and the police were too late to get in on the action. Joker was taken care of by this mysterious figure. As much as Batman tried to adjust the view on his powerful binoculars it was still too blurry to pick out any distinctive or specific features on the figure. He snapped some pictures only getting silhouettes but it would be enough to clear up later on the computer.

Patrol cars pulled up in front of the building and quickly dispersing to infiltrate. He could pick out Gordon from his position. Bruce peered through the binoculars again only to find the floor empty besides the Joker sitting still in his chair. Where had the figure gone? Bruce stayed put awhile longer waiting. Several minutes passed of Bruce waiting perfectly still when he heard gun shots and shouting down below. From what he could see, the police were trying to take care of the men standing guard at the front while SWAT went in from the back. Hostage situations were fragile.

Looking back through the binoculars to the ninth floor uncovered only one difference. Joker and the chair he was tied to were no longer in his field of view. Suddenly, the elevator opened three of Joker's men filing in. It didn't matter where the costumed person went. All Bruce knew was that Sylvia was somewhere on that floor and he needed to get in before Joker and his men found her.

"Boss," one of the thugs called out.

"I don't see him," another voiced inspecting the floor. It was hard to see anything over all the cubicles.

All three turned abruptly at the sound of shuffling but it was so faint. They split up silently each one taking a side and last going between the cubicle isles. The sound of glass shattering caused all three to pause but only one to yelp in surprise. One of the men closest to the window found himself face-to-face with the Dark Knight. Before his two colleagues could join him Batman incapacitated him and left him lying on the floor to be found.

"Jesus, Marty," one of the men exclaimed checking his friend. The other thug stood by looking around the area.

"He's here," he said his fun beginning to tremble within his grip. "He must have gotten the boss!"

"Shut up!" the kneeling one snapped. "You don't know that. Why would the Bat have crashed through the window if he was already in here?"

"Then where's the Boss," said an obviously frightened thug.

"I don't know, but we gotta keep lookin'. Try the radio! See if any of the others have seen'em."

Bruce listened hidden inside one of the cubicles close by as the lackey followed his orders.

"Happy, this is Dopey on the ninth floor," said the man nicknamed Dopey into his radio.

"Don't tell them where we are," growled out his partner.

"Why not," Dopey asked mystified.

"We don't know if the police got to them," came his answer, "and now you've just told them where we are."

"Oh, man," groaned Dopey starting to breathe rapidly. "I can't go back to Blackgate."

"Keep ya head straight and we won't!"

Before anything else could be done, Batman was on them knocking both of Joker's remaining men out. From what Bruce could hear of the police radios, it sounded like the authorities were taking care of the hostages and thugs downstairs.

"Alfred I'm on the ninth floor," Bruce said.

"Ms. Sylvia entered the bathroom before the camera feed was cut," Alfred informed him quickly.

Now that Alfred mentioned it, there had been sounds coming from the women's bathroom. Bruce made his way over passing by the still comatose Joker. Reaching out to grasp the knob he was stopped by the door to the stairs swinging open.

"It's Batman," an officer announced as he lowered his gun slightly.

Gordon came in behind the officer spotting his armor clade friend.

"Where is she," Jim asked urgently looking frazzled.

"The bathroom," Batman answered with his standard gravelly voice.

Jim and four other officers entered the landing.

"And the Joker," was Jim's next question.

"Incapacitated in a chair in the third cubicle," Batman replied. He had spotted him while he stalked Joker's men.

Jim sighed in relief before commanding three of his men to check on the clown while he and two others moved onto the bathroom.

"We got him," a voice announced when the group of three officers found the Joker. "He's out cold."

"Sylvia," Jim called just a few feet from the bathroom door feeling safe now that he knew the Joker was taken care of. He tried the handle finding it locked. Mumbling his discovery to the others he stepped back calling out Sylvia's name one more time.

A groan sounded from behind the door followed by indistinctive noises.

"Jim," a voice croaked from behind the door.

"Sylvia," he repeated through the door, "are you alright? Can you unlock the door?"

Sylvia breathed in deeply on the other side of the door. She reached up lazily grasping the horizontal knob and pulling it down followed by the tell-all click unsealing the door. Gordon yanked the door open to find his close friend on the floor leaning on her hands with her head down.

"Sylvia," Gordon voiced in shock, "what happened?"

The Commissioner put his gun away before getting on his knees in front of her. He placed a hand on each side of her face carefully tipping it back to get a clear look at her face. The area around Sylvia's mouth was slightly red with irritation and her eyes were drowsy looking. In his line of work, Gordon had seen enough chloroform victims to know the signs. Turning to voice his suspicions to their mutual friend he found the area empty besides his cops.

"Vee, can you stand," Jim whispered to her gently grasping her arm.

Sylvia nodded and carefully, with Jim's help, rose from the tiled floor of the bathroom.

"Sir, Joker and his men are on their way to the MCU for questioning," Blake informed him.

"Thank you Officer Blake," Jim said gratefully, "I'll be taking Ms. Juarez over to the MCU personally."

"Yes, sir," Blake responded before heading back downstairs.

"I didn't even ask," Jim grumbled to himself before looking back at the woman in his arms, "Do you think you'll need medical attention?"

Drawing in some breath, Sylvia responded, "No, I don't think so. It was just chloroform."

The effects would go away soon. He just needed to get her some fresh air.

"C'mon, trooper," Gordon chuckled calling the elevator to get them back to the main floor.

* * *

"Okay how about you try running your story by _me_, toots," the newly appointed Detective Harvey Bullock said taking a seat in front of a frustrated Sylvia.

She had been cooped up at the station for three hours now in the same interrogation room. First it was Detective Murphy who had been reasonable. He came in, took a seat, proceeded to ask her questions, and politely wrote down notes.

"I'll be back in a few minutes with some papers for you to sign and then you'll be released," he told her with a smile and then taking his leave.

Sylvia had thought everything was fine. That was until Detective Murphy didn't come back. What had started out as a few minutes became half an hour and then forty-five minutes and still no sign of Murphy or anyone. Something had changed from the time she had entered the MCU to when her interrogation had ended. There was now a cop stationed outside the room.

Externally, Sylvia showed no panic or any inkling that she knew her status within the MCU was shifting. However in her mind, a resounding 'FUCK' was repeatedly going off. So when Detective Harvey Bullock walked in with his I-own-the-world look, Sylvia's fears had been realized. Joker was awake and he had spilled. Despite knowing this the ex-journalist refused to drop character.

"I already gave my statement to Detective Murphy," Sylvia announced looking confused.

"I know but you see –" Bullock began putting down a file on top of the table between them. Flipping it open he took a peek inside before continuing, "Ms. Juarez, somethin's not addin' up abou' your story."

Sylvia let a trimmed eyebrow rise in a challenging expression. All they had was Joker's statement against hers. Whatever evidence he gave them could be easily dismissed. Bullock threw her a smirk before chucking some blurry photos onto the desk. As blurry as they looked, a person could make out the Joker dozing in the office chair and the caped figure next to him tying him down.

Okay so she was not expecting them to have pictures. Sylvia had an idea where they had come from. The detective had a very haughty look on his face when he asked her, "Would you like to try again?"

Bullock was trying to get her to confess something. She knew the tactic. He was trying to make her feel uncomfortable make her believe they knew more than they actually did.

A moment of silence passed between them before Sylvia spoke up, "It's the same. I didn't see another person.

"I walked into the bathroom from my desk. I attempted to dial 7, 6, 7 to sound the alarm but I was stopped –"

"By a person and a rag with chloroform, so you said," he interjected his lip curling up. Harvey had a very short temper.

"Well if you already knew that _Detective_ than why are you in here," Sylvia asked leaning forward.

"You didn't see the person who attacked you," Bullock stated rather than asked.

"No I didn't," she responded trying to keep her frustration in line.

"That is if that person exists."

"Excuse me?"

"You were the only one on that floor," Harvey denounced his anger becoming increasingly evident.

"How could you possibly know that?" Sylvia protested, "Detective Murphy told me the cameras went dead just a few seconds after I entered the bathroom."

Silence fell between them again. Inside, Sylvia did a bit of a victory dance.

"I can't help but feel like you're implying something about me Detective Bullock," Sylvia speculated.

"Listen here, _toots_! How would you like it if I –"

The door to the interrogation room opened stopping Harvey mid threat. Commissioner Gordon stepped through looking calm and collected but looked surprised once spotting Bullock.

"Detective Bullock, I didn't assign you to interrogate Ms. Juarez," Gordon stated.

"Thought I'd cut you a break, Commish," Harvey offered trying to play innocent, "You were busy with the Joker I thought I'd try to get the truth out of her."

Gordon shook his head before ordering, "That won't be necessary. Take a walk Bullock."

Bullock stiffened before rising from his seat. After throwing a threatening look to Sylvia he stormed out of the room. Sylvia rolled her eyes at the portly man's antics as Jim took over the seat that had just been vacated.

"I get the feeling he's not a fan of mine," Sylvia detected running a hand through the ends of her hair.

"He's not anyone's fan," Jim mentioned, "Don't take it personally."

Jim's statements relaxed her more than he could have foreseen. That short tempered personality was just the way Harvey Bullock was. Then the police didn't have any other evidence besides the pictures. It was as Sylvia predicted. Harvey was just grasping at straws.

Sylvia sighed before bringing her attention back to Jim.

"As Detective Bullock mentioned, I was just with the Joker and I have to say, Vee, he shared _some_ story," Jim admitted with a sigh.

"What did he say?"

"He told us that a bat-woman came charging out of the bathroom at him and proceeded to assault him," Gordon disclosed leaning back in the uncomfortable metal chair.

An amused snort escaped Sylvia, "As if he didn't deserve it," she muttered afterward.

"That's beside the point, Sylvia," Jim pointed out before leaning forward.

"What did he mean by a 'bat-woman'," Sylvia asked getting back on track.

"He described her costuming mirrored the Batman's except she was a woman and some parts of her costume was red including her hair," he explained observing his close friend's reaction to this information.

"Does our friend know," she whispered leaning over the table toward Gordon. "What does he make of all of this?"

"He was with me when Joker told his story," Jim answered, "Before he left he said he would look into it and get back to me."

"He would look into it," Sylvia restated to herself combing both her hands through her hair. Her fingers intertwining together behind her neck with her elbows placed on the table. "And what do you make of this, Gordon?"

"To be completely honest with you, I don't like it," Gordon confessed allowing some of his anxiety show through the cracks of his false calm exterior. "She assaulted you and the Joker – Why? Who is she? What does she want? What are her motives?"

Sylvia understood where Jim was coming from. Of course he would be alarmed. It was like when the Batman first showed up. All of Gotham had been suspicious.

"Anyway, Alfred is on his way," Jim said as he placed her statement form along with a black pen. "Just sign your sworn statement and you're free to go."

Without any outward hesitance, Sylvia picked up the pen and swiftly signed her name. Jim went to grab it but her hand kept the form near her. Commissioner Gordon gazed at her questioningly when he heard her ask, "Did Joker say anything about me?"

A short pause passed before Jim replied.

"He said he spotted you lying on the bathroom floor."

**A/N: Let me know what you think in a REVIEW! Thanks to everyone who followed, alerted, and reviewed before! You are all positively wonderful.  
**


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: I owe you guys a HUGE apology along with my sincerest thanks to those who reviewed, favorited, and followed this story. I'm very, very sorry for keeping everyone waiting. **

**Quick Note: The **_Italicized_ **passage is from chapter 16. **

Sylvia sat silently on a bench right outside the entrance to the MCU feeling a wide mixture of emotions: elation, guilt, frustration, inspiration, brave, and very cold. During all the commotion back at work, she had forgotten her sweater with her iphone in the front pocket which was one of the main causes for her frustration. How could she have left such a huge piece of evidence to the events of tonight? She had insisted that she would wait outside for Alfred. Some time alone was exactly what she needed to gather her bearings.

Unable to stop herself, Sylvia went over the events that began about a week ago leading up to her sitting on this bench and adrenaline coursing through her veins. She had gotten the idea after Bruce had mentioned Lucius in passing when he gave her the new iphone…

A Week Before:

"_What's the plan," she asked. _

"_I've had Lucius install a new feature to your phone," he informed her bringing out an iphone from his pocket._

"_That's not my phone," Sylvia realized bringing out her Blackberry. _

"_It is now," Bruce countered with a smirk. "All you'll have to do is press 7, 6, 7 and it'll send an alert to me and to Gordon. You keep that with you at all times."_

"_And?" Sylvia inquired wondering and hoping that there was more. _

"_And we wait for the Joker to strike," he voiced reluctantly. _

"_Why do our plans always involve waiting," she thought aloud._

_She understood perfectly but the situation was getting to her. Bruce wrapped an arm around her comfortingly understanding her plight. It was difficult for him as well. He'd been staying home from work more often than normal. Instead he spent his days at the makeshift headquarters awaiting something like this to happen; for the Joker to make his move. _

"_Believe me when I say this situation is frustrating for me too," Bruce confided holding her closer. _

_Sylvia nodded knowing it was the truth. The problem with Bruce was he refused to think outside of the box. Sylvia smirked conspiringly into his embrace. There was much to do in preparation for her showdown with Joker. _

"_Don't worry, Bruce," Sylvia reassured him. "Joker won't know what hit him."_

If she was going to go through with her plan she had about a week to execute it. The idea itself was laughable but she had to do something. More than likely Joker knew her schedule so he would know that she stayed after work consistently every Friday night. She needed to speak to Lucius Fox right away.

Under the clever guise of joining Bruce for lunch, Sylvia roamed the halls of Wayne Enterprises in search of Fox. She came upon his office without delay to find him conversing on the phone. Not wishing to interrupt, she waved at him in greeting alerting him to her presence. Within minutes, he hung up the phone and gestured for her to come in.

"How are you doing, Ms. Juarez," Lucius asked with a pleasant smile.

"I'm wonderful, Lucius, it's good to see you," Sylvia returned with a bright eager smile.

"Likewise," he replied.

Her eagerness was somehow telling and Lucius knew that there was more to this visit than just a friendly 'hello, how are you'.

"Now what can I help you with," he inquired with a knowing look.

Sylvia blushed knowing she had given herself away but she composed herself. She squared her shoulders, looked Lucius straight in the eye and with absolute seriousness said, "I need a suit."

For a moment Lucius Fox stood stock still unsure if he heard Sylvia's request correctly. From the look she was giving him, he had. He sighed wearily knowing that putting up a fight would be useless. The woman was downright tenacious. Lucius should have seen this coming.

"Does Mr. Wayne know about this?" he finally asked after a moment of silence.

"No and I would appreciate it if we kept it that way," Sylvia answered.

"I'm not sure I can do that, Ms. Juarez," Lucius told her truthfully. "Mr. Wayne is after all my boss and friend."

"I know but please Lucius," Sylvia begged, "I would only use the suit once and then return it to you. I just need it for next Friday. It's the day I'm expecting the Joker to strike."

"Well I wouldn't need that long," he mumbled to himself.

Sylvia's face brightened. She thought it would take him longer.

"How long would it take you," she questioned fervently.

"It's done," was his unexpected answer.

"What?"

"Wayne Tech designed a suit for both genders. Both were made for testing," Lucius explained, "Mr. Wayne is using the male version and I still hold the female one."

Sylvia asked tentatively, "Would it fit me?"

"I suppose there is only one way to find out," he said before heading to the blinds behind Sylvia and quickly closing them.

Sylvia looked on in confusion as Lucius walked to the bookshelves set up against the wall to Sylvia's right. Unable to see how Lucius did it but a section of the bookshelf slid to the side revealing an elevator.

"If you'd follow me, please," he spoke holding out an arm indicating toward the elevator.

Sylvia took the invite instantly and stepped in followed closely by Lucius. Normally, Sylvia would be feeling apprehensive but she trusted Lucius irrefutably. The couple landed at the desired floor within minutes.

Before the doors opened, Lucius made one serious request, "Please, don't touch anything."

Sylvia acquiesced. As eager as she was, she didn't want to break anything. The door slid open revealing all kinds of gadgets and gismos along with numerous surfaces littered with pages of nonsense. Nonsense to Sylvia, that is.

"Follow me," Lucius said walking out of the elevator and to the left.

He led her to some short aluminum drawers and without ceremony opened the second to the top drawer. Lucius wasn't kidding when he said he already had one. The suit was perfect well almost perfect. It was a dark grey and silver. Not as conspicuous as she would have liked.

Lucius saw her hesitance and quickly deduced the problem.

"I can make some alterations to it if you'd like," he offered.

"Could you?" Sylvia asked excitedly.

It was Lucius' turn to be hesitant.

"Now about Mr. Wayne," Lucius began but was cut off by the ex-reporter.

"I know but listen if it's any sort of comfort Bruce won't even see me in it," Sylvia stated, "I just want to use it to scare Joker a bit and in all honesty as some protection."

Protection? Now, there she had a point. Lucius couldn't let her go into the Lion's den without any sort of guard. Plus, he had time to work on it this week…

"I'll have it for you ready by Wednesday afternoon," he informed her and was instantly engulfed in a firm embrace.

"Thank you, thank you Lucius," Sylvia cheered releasing him.

Recovering from the unexpected contact, Lucius went back to business.

"There are some things you'll have to be aware of," he voiced while lifting a gauntlet Sylvia recognized from Bruce's suit.

He went to hand it to her but Sylvia pulled back instantly an apprehensive look adorning her face.

"Those wouldn't happen to come with an owner's manual would they," she asked almost sheepishly.

Lucius grinned amused.

"Ah, the levelheaded one of the duo," he chuckled putting down the gauntlet. "We'll go over them on Wednesday."

Keeping the secret from Bruce and Alfred hadn't been hard at all but Sylvia had felt very guilty going behind Bruce's back. She could hardly blame Lucius for his initial reluctance with helping her. When Wednesday finally came along Sylvia found herself in a room sectioned off gazing at the newly renovated suit before her.

Putting on the suit had been the most incredible feeling. The suit fit her like a second skin – a thick and protective second skin. Behind the mask she could act any way she wanted, be anyone she wanted. It was as if the mask carried a built in surge of confidence. She felt the awesome infinite possibilities. People would fear her.

At that point Sylvia realized she was getting ahead of herself. No one except the Joker was going to see her in this and he would have no clue it was Sylvia underneath. Now that was something she needed to make absolutely sure of but how to accomplish it? Looking at herself closely in the mirror once more she tried to figure out a way to really hide her identity. Contacts were too subtle…

"Hey Lucius," Sylvia called out when she left the room she was changing in and out into the main area.

Lucius looked from the computer screen he was peering at to her with a curious gaze.

"You wouldn't happen to know of any good and conspicuous wig places would you?"

The dark man guffawed shortly at her question before admitting that he did not but would look into it straight away. After replacing her new armor with her street clothes, Sylvia and Lucius sat together in front of his computer conspiring.

"I can't have the cameras on and recording me in the suit," Sylvia insisted, "It wouldn't be good for the police to have that kind of evidence. They'd go on a full blown investigation."

Lucius sat contemplating her words when he got an idea.

"We can short circuit the cameras by using the iphone Mr. Wayne gave you," he revealed.

"You could do that?"

"I've done it before. Shut off the power to a whole building in Hong Kong," said Lucius as he turned to the computer in front of him proceeding to type in some things, "I figure doing it only to one floor and only to the cameras will be a bit of trouble though. It'll be more precise."

Sylvia stared at the computer screen at a loss not understanding any of the things Lucius was doing.

"Look, Lucius," Sylvia digressed feeling slightly overwhelmed and guilty, "I don't want to make you do anymore because honestly you've done enough."

"Ms. Juarez I admire what you're doing and what Mr. Wayne does," Lucius spoke firmly stopping her rambling with a firm look, "I know that you mean a lot to Mr. Wayne and your life is in danger. If there is just the slightest chance that this new vigilante could take Sylvia Juarez off Joker's radar, then I say we take it. Mr. Wayne will understand."

It was truly touching that Lucius would risk his job for her wellbeing. He was after all correct.

"Thank you, Lucius," she pronounced looking sincerely grateful.

Lucius nodded accepting her gratitude with humility.

"Now, if you don't mind leaving your phone with me until Friday," Lucius requested, "I should have everything else ready by then, as well."

"I'll leave for work extra early so I could drop by here before Bruce does," Sylvia agreed.

"Or I could meet you outside the apartment complex?" At Sylvia's questioning stare Lucius clarified, "We wouldn't want the gossip mill enlightening Mr. Wayne of your presence in his absence."

The ex-journalist nodded in understanding. No doubt her attendance in Wayne Enterprises would be call attention.

"Perhaps it would be best if we did this your way," Sylvia smiled handing her phone over to the intelligent engineer.

"My sentiments exactly," he returned before receiving the phone and putting it on the desk between them.

Friday morning, Sylvia entered the apartment lobby from the elevator looking sharp and professional for work. Her three inch black business heels with a silver decorative buckle at the front, clacking against the emerald green marble flooring as she made her way to the front door and out into the busy Gotham streets. Usually, she would call for a cab but this morning she was looking for Lucius' black car.

Sylvia walked over to where the parking garage exit was keeping an eye out. Finally, spotting him parked on the other side of the four lane street, she calmly waited for her opportunity to cross the street safely. Once successfully completing that task Sylvia sat in the passenger seat beside Lucius.

"Good morning, Ms. Juarez," Lucius greeted politely before reaching into the back seat procuring the duffel bag she had brought home Wednesday night. Sylvia had returned it to Fox in order for him to fill it with more gadgets.

"Good morning, Mr. Fox," she announced in return accepting the offered bag full of her goodies that would aid her in her plan.

"I have some concerns. This bag is not exactly easy to conceal," Lucius pointed out.

"Way ahead of you Lucius," Sylvia assured him, "I had planned on putting an 'out of order' sign on one of the bathrooms and hide it in there."

Lucius nodded impressed before he asked, "And if everything goes according to plan, where will it be when the police arrive?" Sylvia's proud smile slowly left her face as she pondered Lucius' question, "In the bathroom with you?"

The woman sighed realizing she hadn't thought about what would happen after she dealt with Joker. Voicing that thought to her friend, Lucius was there again to save the day.

"Why don't you just secure it out of view under your desk and I'll pass by to pick it up," he offered.

Sylvia looked absolutely relieved. All she would have to worry about is her acting with the police and keeping her story straight.

"Lucius I owe you _huge _for doing all of this for me," she stated pulling the strap of the duffel bag onto her shoulder.

Sylvia looked out of the front windshield spotting the garage exit again this time however there was a familiar car coming out of it. It was the Rolls Royce Alfred preferred to drive Bruce around. That meant Alfred _and _Bruce were coming out of the parking garage and Lucius and her were in perfect view.

"Oh, my god – Lucius duck," Sylvia squealed falling back into her chair and scooting down.

"What –"

"Alfred and Bruce are coming out from the parking garage – duck!"

The younger woman swiftly explained before tugging the darker man down and out of sight. A few moments passed before Lucius took a peek through the steering wheel and saw the back of the car heading down the street.

"Three guesses where they're going," she said sarcastically watching the car drive down the crowded street too.

"I only need one," Lucius replied, "I think this is where we part, Ms. Juarez."

Nodding in agreement Sylvia opened her door, "Until later, Lucius and thank you again."

She slammed it closed and going to search for a cab when Lucius called her back. She peeked in through the now open car window looking expectantly at Lucius. The dark man looked awfully serious before saying, "Be careful, Ms. Juarez. If things don't go as planned, know when to pull back."

Sylvia nodded again with a small smile before taking two steps back from the car. Lucius pulled away. Before long the empty space the brilliant engineer left was taken up by an awaiting cab. Sylvia scooted in telling the driver where his next destination was.

Butterflies fluttered around in her gut as the cab ventured to her place of work. Sylvia anxiously fiddled with the zipper of the duffel bag. Pulling it open a few inches a puddle of vibrant red strands of hair was revealed. What was she thinking? Sure she took some Jui Jitsu and Muay Tai when she was younger but she was no Batman. Clearly she had not thought this through enough.

The cab pulled up to the _GT _building without Sylvia noticing. The cab driver stared at her through his rear view mirror. She was obviously far, far away.

"Ay, lady," he said loudly to gain her attention. "I have other people to help, you know?"

"Oh, sorry," Sylvia groaned feeling her cheeks flush, "I didn't even realize we had stopped."

Watching her dig through her purse, the cabbie took pity on her.

"Ah, it's okay," he reassured, "Just didn't want you to be late. You seem nervous. Got some important meeting or something?"

"You could call it that," she replied counting out the money she owed him.

"Don't be so worried. With a face like yours, you got nothing to worry about. Just hold your head up high with all the confidence ya got and you'll be sure to knock'em dead. Having that self-assurance will keep your head straight."

Sylvia looked over at the driver noticing him really for the first time. He was an older gentleman with the very top of his head bald. What hair he had was on the sides and graying quite a bit but she could still see some light brown strands in the back. His skin was semi-tanned and he had a good natured smile that he was showing her. This was not the first time Sylvia had gotten advice from a cab driver. After the many people they come into contact with every day they pick up on things easily and can be as wise as any old timer. She returned the smile gratefully before handing him the cash.

"Thanks," she said sincerely before getting out.

"You're very welcome," he told her before he counted the money. "Hey, don't you want your change?"

She had clearly given him 15 dollars too much but Sylvia simply looked back throwing him another smile.

"Keep it – for the ego boost," she joked before continuing her trek into the building.

"Good morning, Ms. Juarez," Kimmy from the front desk greeted.

"Good morning, Kimmy," Sylvia returned before calling her usual elevator.

The doors opened allowing her entry and she pressed the button to her corresponding floor.

Present:

"Ms. Sylvia," Alfred's gentle voice pulled her from her memories abruptly.

"Hello, Alfred," Sylvia smiled before rising from her seat.

She didn't realize how badly her arms were trembling until Alfred placed a toasty blanket over her shoulders. It was colder than it had been before. Sylvia couldn't even tell how long she had sitting. She gave the butler a grateful smile before he led her to the awaiting Rolls Royce. It was here that Sylvia saw the twinge of sadness in the man's gaze. There was something off about Alfred but Sylvia didn't know what it was.

"Let's take you home," Alfred said as he pulled the car door open for her.

"That's gotta be the best idea I've heard all day," Sylvia replied with a smile as she got settled into the back seat for the drive back to the penthouse.

**A/N: Thanks again for reading and please take the time to leave a comment below.**


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: Hello Fellow Readers! Hope you are all well :D. Thanks to all those who favorited, reviewed, alerted, and are following. They keep my spirits high. And a big thank you to WinterRain36 and Highlander348 for the private messages. Enjoy!**

**Chapter 20**

It was the silent and nonchalant left turn going south that made warning bells go off in Sylvia's mind. The penthouse was north of the GCPD headquarters, where was Alfred taking her?

She remained silent hoping that the butler simply decided to take the scenic route but as they continued to the southern west part of Gotham City it was becoming more difficult for her mouth to stay shut. It was not until they pulled into the docks that Sylvia let out a sigh of relief. Of course Alfred would bring her here. Bruce was probably still getting dressed out of his suit.

"I'm guessing Bruce is here," she asked Alfred who gave her an amused look.

"You would guess correctly, Ms. Sylvia," he responded before putting the car into park and switching off the ignition.

Sylvia opened her own door before Alfred could do so. Alfred instead went to unlock the storage unit that housed Batman's headquarters and held it open for the ex-reporter.

"Thank you, Alfred," she smiled before walking into the darkened and enclosed shelter.

The floor shifted and began to descend letting in the light from below. Bruce got up from his place at the computers when he heard the entrance coming down. He had not been expecting to see Sylvia with Alfred but it was definitely a welcomed surprise.

Sylvia looked around the area spotting Bruce's suit hung up in its case along with his other numerous utility gadgets.

"Sylvia," Bruce called out coming forward.

"Bruce," she greeted in return taking her eyes from the sterile surroundings to him.

Bruce gathered her in his arms and without any outward hesitation brought her lips up to meet his. Sylvia's hands rested on his strong biceps clutching to them as he devoured her mouth. The sound of her blood pounding in her ears was the only thing she heard until the billionaire pulled away bringing his forehead to rest against hers. Both of them catching their breath but Bruce recovered first.

"I'm so sorry I wasn't with Alfred to pick you up from the station," he whispered his hands softly caressing her face while her hands still clung to his arms.

"It's okay you don't need to apologize," she returned with a smile.

"I'm so glad you're alright," he sighed bringing his arms to encircle her waist again.

"Ahem," Alfred interjected softly, "Any luck, sir?"

"Luck? With what?" Sylvia asked coming out of her daze and sporting a furrowed look.

"I'm afraid not Alfred," Bruce answered before saying, "we should get to the penthouse for Sylvia to settle down. We'll talk about it then."

"No I wanna know what you've been working on," Sylvia argued her eyes moving to the numerous computer monitors set up.

Each showed a different feed but it didn't take long for her to realize that Bruce had hacked into the security feed at her workplace. Although she wanted to feel anger she felt instead panic as her eyes glued to the center bottom monitor. The silhouettes shown were distinctly of her own dressed in the temporary suit and tying Joker into the office chair. The picture was obvious to her only because she was there but in actuality it was very blurred; hardly distinguishable. A blue grid continuously flashed in the photo along her form. Bruce was investigating the still mainly the Batwoman's form – her form. She swallowed down her anxiety as she looked to Bruce.

Bruce knew he would have to explain the surveillance to her. Better now than later.

"Sylvia, don't be angry," he started pleadingly, "You could not have expected me to just sit by and wait for Joker to show up. I mean, how could I?"

"No, Bruce but I did expect you to have a little more trust in me than this," Sylvia countered her face not angry but tired, "You bugged the _whole _building! Did you get the feed from my floor – after I entered the bathroom?"

Bruce shook his head, "No, it went out the moment you went in."

"And what's this picture you have here," she asked gesturing toward the center monitor, "You're obviously in the middle of deciphering it."

"The better visual picture I got tonight of the person who was there in the building with you," Bruce answered her concisely, "the one who took down the Joker."

Sylvia looked to the photo feigning curiosity inquiring, "That's him?"

"Her," Bruce corrected, "According to the Joker."

"And we're taking Joker's word on this why?"

"It's not just Joker's word. Based on the other stills taken of the figure she's a woman."

Sylvia sighed while studying the picture. She needed to know just how much Bruce knew already about the 'Bat-woman'.

"She looks huge," she commented.

"She does but if you put her into perspective with the other objects in the photo," Bruce noted while bringing up different scales he had gone through earlier. "Like this desk," he said pointing out the desk in the photo before continuing "is two feet eight inches tall. Putting the woman at five feet seven inches – nine at the most."

"Nine, huh," Sylvia said as an afterthought before asking, "And do we know if this mysterious figure was wearing heels?"

Bruce contemplated this question. True the woman could have been. That was a factor he had not thought of.

"Could be, but according to Joker she was wearing a style of combat boots," he replied clicking away on some of the keys changing the picture's saturation and contrast before zooming into the figures face.

Clicking a few other keys the picture sharpened slightly. Still, the image was not clear enough to say for sure what the person looked like. Only that she had vibrant red hair. Sylvia had to hold back a relieved sigh.

"The figure is masked," Bruce continued, "which backs up Joker's story. Gordon is planning on getting a sketch artist but we'll see how much luck he has on finding someone who will voluntarily sit in with the Joker."

"Something tells me he won't, sir," Alfred spoke up from his perch next to Bruce.

"Joker said the woman was dressed just like me," Bruce said not to anyone specifically but Alfred responded in surprise.

"Like _you_, sir?"

Bruce nodded, "Though she told him that she did not work with Batman the symbol on her chest suggests otherwise."

"Except it was red," Sylvia breathed her expression tired again.

That statement probably could have been omitted but it was out of her mouth before she could stop it. She turned from the screen and took a few steps away; steeling herself. Her story was that she had no contact with the figure from the photo and she was sticking with it. But how on earth did she know the symbol on the Bat-woman's chest was red! Back at the station, detectives had made her repeat her side of the story several times to make sure it was consistent and it had been. Yet, she just revealed that she knew some details about the woman's costume. Sylvia could still save this. She'd just say that Gordon told her so.

"Sylvia," Bruce spoke standing from the chair looking toward her. A short pause and he asked, "Did you see her? Do you remember –?"

"No Bruce," she sighed, "I don't recall anything and definitely not her. I went into the bathroom expecting to dial 7-6-7 and before I knew it Gordon is pounding on the bathroom door calling my name. I don't want to get into this again. I am exhausted they hammered me at the station and I really just want to go home."

Bruce nodded in understanding. It was getting close to midnight right now. The boys in blue kept her for more than seven hours.

"Alfred, can take you home now," he told her, "I want to stay and see if I can't run the picture through a different program. Maybe I could get a glance at her mask or see if the program can recognize the material her suit is made from."

"Bruce," Sylvia spoke and took a deep breath preparing for the metaphorical dive into the deep end. With this request she will either sink or float. "I would really appreciate it if you didn't look into this any further than you already have."

Alfred and Bruce looked taken aback by her request.

"Sylvia I don't think I can –" Bruce began but Sylvia quickly intervened.

"According to the police, you, and Joker, this woman saved my life."

"After she _drugged_ you," Bruce argued.

"To keep me safe," she countered but sensed Bruce was not being swayed. "Don't try acting all high and mighty, Bruce Wayne! I'm sure you had the idea of drugging me at least once especially in this past week."

It came as a surprise to see Alfred look sheepish with Bruce sneaking him an amused glance.

"She was only trying to keep me safe," she insisted.

"But why? Who is she," Bruce questioned trying to get Sylvia to see the situation through his eyes.

The potential danger she could be in was only too obvious. Who knew what motives this mysterious woman had in intervening?

"I don't care," she said firmly, "The fact still remains that it's because of her that Joker will be back in Arkham by this time tomorrow. And I am _very _grateful for that."

Bruce's shoulders sagged as he came to the conclusion that Sylvia was not going to back down and in truth she did have a point. She took his hands into her own bringing them up to her lips.

"Come home with me," she said her eyes begging. "Enjoy that tonight went better than we could have hoped for. Every employee of the _Gotham Times _is safe, along with me, and Joker is headed back to Arkham. We have so much to celebrate, Bruce."

Bruce looked into her eyes trying to think of any sort of excuse he could use to stay behind but could not think of a single one. Her words were too true and too tempting to deny. However, there was no way in hell that he was going to let this go. This 'Bat-woman' character executed their plan perfectly. Almost as if she knew what was going to happen before it did. But Sylvia would never forgive him so he came up with a compromise that would hopefully satisfy his woman.

"I will drop it for tonight," he began, "and I won't look into it anymore. But, I will show Gordon what I've discovered so far. If the police choose to look more into this I can't be held responsible. And, if this woman shows up again whether under good or bad circumstances I will begin to investigate her again."

Sylvia knew his argument about the police was a moot point. The police have none of the resources Batman does and if he couldn't find out anything, law enforcement surely would not.

"Sounds like a good deal," she acquiesced with a smile.

To Sylvia, she got the best end of the arrangement. She had absolutely no intentions of putting on the suit ever again. As a result, Bruce will never have to dig any deeper into Bat-woman. He took the bait exactly like she had hoped.

As the couple sat in the back seat with Alfred at the wheel, Sylvia let her mind drift to her masked confrontation. Firm as her determination was to never have to don the mask again she felt that perhaps picking back up on her self-defense classes wouldn't hurt. She never knew when she, Sylvia, would need to escape from a tight situation. It was settled. Sylvia would go and see her old sensei tomorrow.

Or perhaps waiting till Monday would be best. Janet sensei has those mornings off and if she remembered her sensei well enough, she would need her wits about her. Taking a day or two to recover from the day's events and to mentally prepare for the reunion would be for the best.

"I think I'm going to take up self-defense classes again," Sylvia said after earning Bruce's attention with a squeeze of her hand in his.

Bruce looked surprise for a second before asking, "Again? When did you take self-defense classes?"

"Oh, a long time ago," she uttered her cheeks flushing, "I think I was about four when I started and I stopped when I was fourteen."

"Hang on," Bruce chuckled looking astonished, "You took…"

"Judo and Jui- jitsu," she finished with a grin.

"For ten years?"

"My father was very protective of his only child," Sylvia laughed although the memories of those many years ago still stung and it had nothing to do with her father. "Could have also been that my father just really wanted a boy," she added gazing out the window.

"Why didn't your parents have any more kids," Bruce asked curiously hoping the subject wouldn't bring bad memories for Sylvia.

"It wasn't lack of trying," Sylvia said frankly, "My parents got married when my mother was twenty-four and she was pregnant. It didn't last long. She lost it within the first trimester. Long story short, they were lucky to get me."

"I'm sorry," Bruce spoke sincerely squeezing her hand gently.

"It's okay," she told him, "You can't miss something you've never had, right?"

"True," he agreed. "Why do want to take classes again?"

"I don't want to be taken by surprise, again," Sylvia stated resolutely. "Plus, it's about time I went and saw an old friend."

"Ten years!" Alfred repeated looking flabbergasted.

"My reaction exactly," Bruce mumbled looking up at his longtime friend.

"How had this piece of information not come to light sooner," Alfred asked taking a seat in front of his charge.

The two were seated in the living room of the penthouse later that night Alfred sporting a warm cup of tea. Bruce shrugged looking contemplative.

"And her parents…?"

"Normal people," Bruce answered, "You know I looked into her past. There was nothing out of the ordinary about her parents or Sylvia's childhood."

"Perhaps her father really was just concerned," Alfred rationalized, "And children at that age are easily influenced by films and television. Possibly she wanted to take those classes."

"But she sounded so bitter about it, Alfred," Bruce contradicted, "You should have heard her or seen her face when she told me. That part of her life was not pleasant for her."

After a short pause Alfred inquired curiously, "What was your reaction when she told you she wanted to take classes again?"

"I think it was pretty obvious I wasn't keen to the idea," he answered looking down at his lap remembering the strong sense of guilt that cluttered his stomach.

"Why is that, sir?"

"Why was it pretty obvious? Or why am I not keen to the idea?"

"Keen to the idea," Alfred clarified before taking a sip of his Earl Grey.

Bruce thought about his answer trying to come up with one that would satisfy Alfred.

"I mean she says her sensei is an old friend. _I _don't know who this sensei is," Bruce said seriously wishing for a glass of good brandy and he did not drink.

"Did you not think to ask her?" the older man asked suspiciously.

"We got to the penthouse before I could and I didn't want to keep her awake any longer. You saw her. She was exhausted."

Alfred set down his tea cup, finished with the beverage, before looking back at his charge with a straightforward stare.

"And?" was all he asked never letting his gaze falter.

Bruce should have known he could not keep anything from Alfred. An impregnated silence overtook the area the two men occupied neither of them noticing the feminine shadow darkening the doorway of the hallway nearby.

"I haven't been able to stop wondering," Bruce finally spoke, "if Sylvia would feel the need to take these classes again, classes that she did not like taking when she was younger, if I was not in her life."

"Yes," Alfred was quick to answer.

"That was fast," Bruce chuckled shortly.

"Because I firmly believe that answer, Master Wayne, and so should you. You must completely destroy that sense of doubt," he advised, "Because one day that seed of doubt is going to grow into a beast that not even you will be able to control. And mark my words you will make an irrational choice that you will not come back from."

With that eerie prophecy, Alfred picked up his cup and walked to the kitchen leaving a pensive Bruce behind. Sylvia stood in the hallway wondering if Alfred's words were true. Tears in her eyes as she thought when Bruce found it okay to do a background check on her and still not feel the need to tell her. Not an ounce surprised that he had found nothing. If Alfred was right, she did not want to be around when the beast was unleashed.

**A/N: Highlander348 - hope this alleviated the boredom a bit :)**

**Let me know what you thought of this chapter in a REVIEW!**


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

There was a shift in the winds. Something important was hiding just beneath the horizon. She could feel it. A whisper in the winds announcing an old friend was calling for her begging for her attention.

The same sense of familiarity had been settling in her mind in her dreams; memories from yesteryears that she had not pondered until lately.

"Well, he's finally settled down," a voice from behind her said coming up behind her on their balcony overlooking their vast backyard. "The little guy is fast asleep," he finished bringing his arms around his wife.

He kissed her neck tenderly but his wife continued to stare off into space. The sun was setting he noted.

"Have you spoken to Bruce Wayne recently," Janet asked seemingly out of nowhere but within her mind it was completely on topic.

"Uh," Jack chocked wondering why she was bringing up their business rival and acquaintance, "No I can't say I have. We haven't really contacted Wayne Enterprises recently."

It was strange that they lived down the street from the family and had been over on many special occasions yet still they were not on friend terms with Bruce Wayne. More like business associates.

"How long do you think it will take for them to finish the manor," she pressed looking at the skeletal structure they could see just peeking out from behind their trees. "It seems like its taking them ages."

"Alright, where are these inquiries coming from," Jack questioned with a dubious look. "I just told you that I put our son to sleep without Sofia's help and you haven't said anything."

Jack said this last statement with such enthusiasm it was obvious that he could never achieve this goal without the aid of their nanny, Sofia. Janet looked behind her and up at her husband reluctant to answer but knowing she had to. Marriage was a partnership and she knew that before she married Jack. There was no one she would rather do it with than Jack.

"And you're still not darting for the bed," he realized incredulously. He personally could not wait to actually get some sleep. Their son was a handful but he could tell that something was seriously troubling Janet so sleep would have to wait.

"I'm sorry," she sighed. Janet took a moment to gather her thoughts before confiding, "A former pupil has been on my mind lately – in my dreams."

"And that's…bad?"

"I suppose it depends on how you look at it," Janet said her mind still picturing her early student.

"What was so special about _this _pupil," her husband asked concerned now leaning against the railing in front of Janet holding her hands.

"Well, besides the fact that she was one of my first students and I taught her for _ten_ years," Janet told him as Jack let out a low whistle.

"That's a long time," he commented but other than that listened to Janet carefully.

"Out of all of my students she showed the most promise," she revealed, "She could have beaten the best of the best."

"What happened," Jack asked wondering why he had never heard of this before.

Janet had stopped teaching martial arts after she graduated university but before she met Jack. However, she still kept her routine and conditioned every morning for three hours before it was time to go into their work.

"I don't know – well no – I have an idea but I never got it confirmed," Janet confessed, "She just stopped showing up to class."

The newspaper in her hand reminded her why she had mentioned Bruce in the first place.

"And now apparently, she's dating Bruce," she told him lifting the paper halfheartedly.

When her husband simply stared at her she continued.

"I have this gut feeling that whatever is bringing Sylvia back into my life has something to do with him."

* * *

Sylvia definitely felt very silly. It was half past four a.m. when Sylvia rose from her slumber Monday morning. It was still dark out but her stomach was all fluttery just thinking about the day ahead of her. She dressed swiftly and quietly into a pair of black yoga pants, black trainers, a grey loose sweater with a zipper in the front along with a white sleeveless shirt underneath, and to top it off a pair of dark sunglasses. Hopefully no one would recognize her. The press wouldn't be out this early in the morning, right?

She crept from Bruce's room softly closing the door behind her. As unlikely as it was to wake Bruce after he had only come in two hours ago, Sylvia thought it was better safe than sorry. She left a note behind explaining she had been called into work early and left it at that. By five o'clock she was in her car driving down the main street further downtown.

After hearing the private conversation between Bruce and Alfred Sylvia had a lot to think about Saturday and Sunday. It was probably not the best thing to tell Bruce about her wanting to take martial arts again that much was clear now.

Breakfast Saturday morning had been taxing. Bruce wanted to know everything about Janet sensei but there was really not a lot Sylvia knew to begin with. Alfred sat quietly to the side taking in Sylvia's answers. It was actually at Alfred's intervening that Bruce stopped the interrogation. Sylvia insisted that she wanted to take the classes just as a precaution. But, after hearing the conversation last night and seeing Bruce's guilt ridden looks Sylvia thought it was best to just say what Bruce wanted to hear.

"If it bothers you that much, Bruce," she said, "I won't take the classes."

It was difficult for Sylvia to understand why Bruce was so reluctant for her to resume self-defense. With the evidence she had, it seemed that Bruce was not happy with the circumstances that were _making _her take the classes. He was blaming himself for her needing the protection. Although, what he doesn't see is that she was in trouble with or without him. Joker kept going for her because of her actions. It was the same story with Riddler, and Two-Face. Everyone else could see that so why couldn't Bruce? Why couldn't he see that if it wasn't _for _him she would not be alive?

Sylvia pulled into a small business center with a liquor store, a cell phone branch, a locksmith, a cleaners, a donut shop and next to that an empty condemned looking spot 'Martial Arts' in faded red letters above it. Sylvia frowned looking up at the decrepit building. Graffiti littered the sheets of wood that covered the windows and signs saying to 'Keep Out'. There were no openings through the planks for Sylvia to peek inside making her wonder what happened to the place for it to go down. She could still remember the aches and sprains she would go home with. And remember the many orders from her sensei…

"_Lead with your heel, Sylvia!"_

"_Lift with your legs not your back!"_

"_Bend your knees then strike!"_

"_Sylvia! Don't let your emotions cloud your mind!"_

Oh, yes. There were many times that Sylvia would incur the wrath of her sensei. When she was younger, Sylvia never understood why Janet sensei would yell at her more than the others. Standing in front of her old dojo today, she still did not understand. She was hoping to get those answers today but it didn't look like it. The establishment looked like it had been closed for several years.

Observing her surroundings, Sylvia saw none of the businesses open except the donut shop. Sylvia walked in greeted by the strong aroma of fresh baked goods and breakfast. The sound of twinkling bells that were hanging from the door alerted the owner of her arrival. A young fresh faced girl was standing behind the donuts with a wide friendly smile.

"Good morning," she greeted, "How can I help you?"

"Good morning to you," Sylvia returned with a smile of her own. "I was actually hoping you could tell me what happened to the martial arts business that was next door."

"Oh, the Lynn place," the girl asked.

"That's the one."

"Yeah, sure, it closed down like four maybe five years ago," she informed her easily but going by Sylvia's shocked expression this was news to her. "I'm so sorry," the employee apologized looking embarrassed by her bluntness. "You used to attend?"

"Yeah, I took classes there for ten years," Sylvia admitted.

"Oh, geez, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to be insensitive."

"No it's okay how could you have known," she smiled reassuringly.

"That means you don't know…" the girl paused trying to find the best way to say her news, "that Eddie Lynn passed away."

Immediately, a picture of a strict, tall, lean figure with wizened eyes came to the forefront of Sylvia's mind. The man that went by the name of Eddie Lynn was a champion in the Martial Arts world and his daughter was following in his footsteps. He never sported any facial hair but had short dark brown hair peppered lightly with grey at least that's how he looked when Sylvia had last seen him nearly a decade ago. Sylvia used to spare with him every week! How was he dead?

"Eddie Lynn passed away," Sylvia repeated in disbelief.

The girl nodded affirmatively, "That's why the place shut down. His body was found inside. His daughter couldn't keep it afloat. She was still going to school at the time."

"How did he die?"

"Honestly, there's been so much speculation and rumors about it I don't think anybody knows the truth anymore," she answered, "Crazy stories from Eddie falling down the stairs to being poisoned and all the gory details in between. That's why the place has never been rented."

"That is awful," Sylvia voiced picturing the gory details, "Do you know what happened to his daughter?"

"Janet Lynn? Yeah she used to come by from time to time but personally I think it was too hard for her to see the place boarded up like that."

Sylvia could sympathize.

"But the last time she was here was a while ago," she continued, "but let me ask my dad. Hey Pops!"

The worker moved to open the kitchen door before yelling out for her father. A semi-portly, older, dark haired male showed up in the opening his face scrunched up in question.

"Yeah," he responded his voice sounding strong over the sizzling of bacon and eggs behind him.

"When was the last time Janet Lynn was here," his daughter asked.

The older gentleman developed a look of hard thinking before he said, "You know, it was some time ago."

"Do you remember where she told us she was working?"

"Yeah it was at that gym…uh – Sally's!"

"Bally's!" his daughter shouted recalling the short conversation.

"Bally Total Fitness," Sylvia asked.

"Yeah," the two family members said together making Sylvia giggle.

"There ya go," the girl said amusement in her voice.

"Do you happen to remember which one," their giggling customer asked.

The father frowned, "There are a lot of those, aren't there?"

"I'm afraid so."

"Well, it's the one across town," he told Sylvia.

"It's on seventeenth," the girl suddenly remembered. "But I can't remember the other street."

"Must be Franklin," her father suggested but his daughter shook her head.

"No Pops it can't be Franklin," his daughter argued, "Franklin runs the same direction as Seventeenth; east to west."

"Seventeenth doesn't run from east to west."

The two went back and forth while Sylvia stood by silently entertained by their banter. The donut shop owner's daughter was right. Seventeenth did in fact run from east to west. It seemed they both came to that conclusion and were working together to figure out the cross streets. They threw out that the second street was the name of a kind of plant.

"It's Vine Avenue," they both agreed on.

"The gym is on Seventeenth but between Vine and…" the daughter tried to recall.

"Orchard?" Sylvia wondered, "By the Gardens?"

"Yes!" the girl smiled triumphantly, "By the Wayne Botanical Gardens."

"Thank you so much for your help," Sylvia voiced gratefully.

For their trouble, Sylvia bought a custard filled doughnut and the largest plain coffee they had. She had a long trip ahead of her. The Gardens were far and the streets were on the east side. By the time she got to the gym it was nearing half past six. And she had finished both the donut and the coffee.

The gym was already filled with life as the people who opted to exercise before going to work were in full swing. Sylvia fit right in with her attire. She walked up to the front desk where two fit men were sitting and one thin woman.

"Hi, I have a quick question," Sylvia told them and when she was satisfied that she had their attention she continued, "I'm looking for an old friend of mine I was told she worked here. Her name is Janet Lynn."

The youngest of the three was the blonde woman who at Sylvia's inquiry looked positively lost.

"I have no idea who that is," she said, "I'm sorry."

Gym worker number two was of a much darker complexion, bald and looked equally lost.

"Yeah, I'm sorry, I don't know a Janet," he related sheepishly, "Although I did only start working here six months ago."

The last of the trio looked older but not by much. He was most likely Bruce's age. He had nicely styled blonde hair and the black shirt he was wearing said 'Trainer' in big letters.

"I think you mean Janet Drake," he offered with a grin, "She hasn't been Janet Lynn in over two years."

"Oh, really," Sylvia wondered with a laugh, "She married!"

The trainer laughed heartily at Sylvia's astonishment before rising from his chair and coming out from behind the desk.

"Yeah and she hasn't worked here in a long time too," he divulged holding out his hand, "I'm Theodore Mason. I was a Groomsman at her wedding."

Inexplicably, Sylvia turned a bright red when he spoke. She shook his hand carefully before introducing herself.

"Sylvia Juarez, I was a student of Janet's when she still taught over at her dad's."

Theodore looked surprised, "Oh, wow, that was a long time ago."

Again, Sylvia felt her cheeks flush, "Yeah, I guess it was."

Theodore began to chuckle as he understood what he had just said. He looked absolutely apologetic after regained himself.

"I'm so sorry," he claimed, "That was not some sort of front on your age or anything."

"Oh it's okay," Sylvia insisted beginning to laugh, "I know how old I am."

An awkward moment passed before Theodore decided to ask, "Why are you looking for Janet?"

"Um…"

Luckily for Sylvia she did not need to answer before Theodore was called alerting him that his client had arrived.

"Well, you can find Janet at Drake Industries," he informed her with a charming smile.

Sylvia's heart quickly plummeted with this new tidbit. How had she not made that connection? He said her last name was Drake. Of course her husband would Jack Drake of Drake Industries.

"Thanks for your help," she swallowed but smiled gratefully all the same.

"You're very welcome," he expressed with a wave before suddenly remembering something and looking down at his watch, "Actually if you leave now you could probably catch her at her house. It's around the corner from that house that burned down passed Old Gotham – Wayne Manor – on the outskirts of the city. "

"Yes, I know exactly where you're talking about," she responded. "Thanks again."

"No problem," he asserted, but stopped Sylvia again before she could leave, "We actually have a special going on. Trainers can give free sessions to people if they're on the fence about it or want to try it out. I don't know maybe you'd be interested – not that you need it but I was just saying."

Sylvia might be reading this guy wrong but it seemed like he was flirting with her.

"Okay, well thanks," she said keeping a positive attitude even though she seriously just wanted to find Janet and get things over with. This morning has just felt like one giant goose chase. "I will definitely think about it," she promised.

Finally, she left the gym with a sense of trepidation and a new number. This latter had not been her choice but Theodore had a very persistent personality. As she climbed back into her car she thought about the confrontation in her near future especially now knowing Janet was married to Jack Drake. Her brief encounters with the man were never the best. She remembered once she wrote an article on the guy titled 'Drake Industries: Egotism or Simply Plagiarism'.

"This is going to be a very interesting reunion," she muttered to herself as she pulled out onto the already crowded street.

**A/N: Thanks for reading and for the wonderful private messages and reviews! In the next chapter a little more of Sylvia's past will be revealed when she meets up with her sensei. A lot more characters from the Batman universe are going to start coming into play as the story progresses. Please take the time to write a review and I will see you next time. **


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N: Hey everybody, ****It's been a long time since I updated. Lots of stuff has happened since then some good some not so but, hey, so is life. And so I decided to end my seclusion and post something. I hope this is a sign that my creativity has made a solid comeback. Thanks for all the private messages and so sorry I have kept you waiting. Trust me, if I could erase everything that has happened and kept the desire to keep writing I would in a second. Well, I say enough with this depression and I hope you enjoy this chapter.  
**

"Who?" Jack Drake demanded from his butler Charles.

Janet stood behind her husband by her bureau with a robe on having just finished her shower.

"Ms. Sylvia Juarez is at the door, sir," Charles restated calmly. "Although, she is –"

"That girl has some balls coming here," Jack proclaimed, "After everything she's writ–"

"Sir, she is not here to see you," the butler interrupted, "But to see Mrs. Drake."

Jack turned to his silent wife who looked amused.

"Why does that mediocre writer want to see you," Jack inquired to his wife.

"She's not a mediocre writer," Janet defended half-heartedly, "Sylvia's not even a writer anymore. Is she, Charles?"

"Correct, Madam," Charles answered dutifully, "She explicitly said she no longer was part of the press which was the only reason why I let her through the gate. That and also she mentioned that you and she had some history, Madam."

"Some unresolved history, more like, but yes Charles I suppose I've almost been expecting her visit," she offered cryptically, "If you could please escort her into the front room on the _east_ side I will be joining her in a moment. Offer her tea or coffee while she waits, please."

"Right away, Madam," he responded giving a slight bow.

"Make sure to escort her through the front foyer," Jack instructed, "I'd rather not run into her on my way to the garage."

Charles nodded and left the master bedroom closing the door behind him.

"You're letting that vulture into my house," Jack asked outraged walking over to his wife who had resumed her morning routine.

"_Your _house," Janet asked with a grin.

"_Our _home," Jack corrected, "I don't want that hypocrite in our home."

"Jack," Janet warned, "She is my guest and you will respect her."

Jack looked taken aback by Janet's order feeling his skin begin to itch.

"How do you know Sylvia," Jack questioned his cheeks slightly flushed at his wife's admonishment, "From what I remember, you never went to the conferences with me so how did you two meet?"

Janet was finished dressing and was back at her bureau putting on a pair of earrings. Images sprung to mind of a little girl in a classic white martial arts uniform when her husband asked his questions.

"Remember that former student I was telling you about," Janet inquired turning to look at Jack who nodded, "Well, Sylvia…"

Jack's heart dropped, "No," he voiced in disbelief.

Janet simply nodded and bent down to pull on her cream colored heels. She stood from her chair and kissed her husband on the cheek.

"I'll see you at work," she told him before leaving their room to tend to her guest leaving her stunned husband to wrap his mind around this new information.

* * *

Sylvia sipped her faintly burnt coffee carefully while keeping herself from pacing anxiously. Jack had not showed his face yet so that was hopefully a good sign. She had not been able to sit down anywhere within the room. The furniture was set up in such a way that made her feel uncomfortable. It was probably a tactic her sensei used to keep people on edge. Sylvia wouldn't put it passed her. In the end, having found no perch, Sylvia opted to stand toward the center of the room off to the left.

There were two tall bookshelves on each of her sides but neither of them had books. Instead they were lined with statuettes, vases, and faux indoor plants. Looking about the room again, Sylvia noted that there were no pictures. There were no personal touches at all. Sylvia came to the conclusion that the room was for show which led to another deduction that there were two or more front rooms each used for a different purpose. This one was used for business matters: to keep people uneasy and distracted. Yes, Sylvia knew her sensei well.

Speaking of, Janet stepped into the room with a smile and a knowing sparkle in her eye. The older woman was impeccably dressed in a brilliant purple blouse, a pair of black high wasted dress pants, finished off with matte cream and black lined pumps and her hair tied back in a strict bun. Sylvia cursed herself for feeling so underdressed and intimidated. It was like she was back in class again.

"Hello Sylvia," said the smartly dressed woman coolly.

"Janet," she nodded in return.

Sylvia knew exactly what Janet was doing. It was a technique she had previously learned from her: observe and strike. Janet's grin twitched.

"Have a seat," Janet told her, "Make yourself at home."

"Thank you – I'll stand."

Janet paused in her movements as she took a seat on her askew and freakishly tall backed couch. The hostess' grin widened.

"Can I get you anything Madam," Charles asked his employer.

"Green tea, please," Janet answered shortly.

"Very well," Charles nodded before looking to Sylvia, "And for you, Ms. Sylvia, perhaps another coffee?"

"No, Charles, thank you," Sylvia voiced politely.

Charles briskly took her empty cup from her grasp before exiting the room to retrieve the green tea.

"I see marriage hasn't changed you," Sylvia said after another hard pause.

"Meaning," Janet inquired but the smirk on her face told Sylvia she knew exactly what she meant.

"Still using the human mind to bend the rules for your benefit," Sylvia pointed out gesturing to the environment.

Janet chuckled nodding her head in agreement, "Habits are hard to break."

Another long pause settled only because Charles reentered the room carrying a pot of freshly brewed green tea with one cup, honey, and slices of lemon. The butler set the tray down before leaving the room once again.

Janet then proceeded to take her time preparing her tea. Deftly pouring the steaming liquid into the cup, delicately picking out the seeds from the lemon…Sylvia rolled her eyes let out a short laugh.

The hostess looked up from her 'ritual' with a questioning look.

"Have I done something amusing?"

"No, forgive me," Sylvia said calmly before adding, "I hope your throat is feeling better."

"Only slightly I'm afraid," Janet replied before continuing with her preparations.

Finally finished, Janet looked up at her guest after taking a cautious sip of her tea.

"Now what were we saying," Janet asked taking another short sip.

"Habits being hard to break," Sylvia answered swiftly again the feeling of being in class touching her again.

"Ah, yes, but you would know all about that wouldn't you, Sylvia."

And so it had begun.

"Meaning," Sylvia asked only with slight mock tainting her speech. Respect your sensei was heavily promoted within martial arts.

"Why are you playing innocent?"

"I'm not."

"You were my student Juarez-san, one of my best, so I know you are completely aware of what you're doing."

"And what am I doing, sensei?"

"You tell me."

There was a short moment of silence before Janet sighed apparently making her mind up about something.

"Alright, you want to play stubborn, fine. You were always good at playing stubborn," she snapped. "Why don't – or can't – you sit down?"

Sylvia made to answer but her sensei continued with her inquiries.

"Why won't you move from there? What have you noticed about this room, Juarez-san?"

Those questions and more were being shot out from Janet's mouth swiftly and as disarming as bullets. Sylvia knew the answers to them all but she was not about to fall into the trap. Finally, Janet fell silent looking at her expectantly.

"Answer the questions," Janet demanded.

"It was a mistake coming here," Sylvia mumbled moving to pick up her purse but her sensei was quick to swipe it first.

"I told you that one day your training would be so imbedded into you that it'd become second nature," Janet expressed looking quite proud. "You couldn't sit down because the couches' backs are too high to look over. So you sit in the love seat that faces the entrances however you find that the other seats block the view of those two entrances, resulting in you standing by the bookshelves; the spot with the clearest view of the room. An observation technique you learned from me, no?

"You always denied your talents, Juarez-san," Janet stated almost disappointedly, "You never wanted to be different. You wanted to blend in. That's why you took a job that you could use your skills in without anyone being the wiser. You became an investigative journalist."

The last statement was spat like an insult. As rude as Janet was being the truth in her words could not be denied. Bruce never found anything suspicious or noteworthy in Sylvia's past because the reports that cluttered her childhood were typical things. Teachers were unable to deal with younger Sylvia due to her abilities to outsmart them in the most innocent way. The girl found herself in the principal's office more times throughout those early years because of it. Most scarring of all didn't come from the teachers but from her fellow students.

Name calling and rejection were the most prominent maneuvers the children used against Sylvia and it only became physical once, when she was fourteen. Sylvia just wanted to be normal. In her mind a normal person meant one who: didn't take martial arts, participated in school sponsored extracurricular activities, didn't count steps, didn't visually scout exits wherever they went, and most certainly did not demand from her first grade teacher that they change seats so that they could have a clear view of the exit!

"And my sore throat, how did you know about that?" Janet questioned further.

"That was a lucky guess," Sylvia affirmed but it only served to anger Janet.

"I did not teach you to guess," she snarled blatantly offended.

"You added honey and lemon to your _green tea_," she answered reluctantly before firmly adding, "But you could also be part of the majority of Americans who don't know how to prepare tea."

"But you know I'm not Sylvia."

"Right! Because I watched you prepare your tea every day for ten years straight. The only reason you would add _anything _to green tea is for health reasons," the younger woman looked positively overwhelmed for a moment after she practically shouted those facts. "And could you please quit with the theatrics and relieve Charles from standing outside the doorway."

A tense moment passed with Janet looking like the ever proud sensei she was.

"Thank you, Charles," her teacher called out simply before tossing Sylvia's purse to her, "Good detective work."

"Well, I'm damn good at what I do," Sylvia conceded feeling slightly drained.

"Did," Janet corrected shortly holding up the weekend issue of the _Gotham Times_. "From what I read you're an editor now. You coming to me wouldn't have anything to with the Joker's attack on you Friday, would it?"

Their conversation was just filled to the brim with tense silences.

"Yes," she offered once again admitting defeat.

"And what about this Batwoman that everyone seems to be talking about? She's the one who took him down, was she not?"

Now, Batwoman, there was a topic she would not admit to. This was one topic she had to keep to herself.

"I don't know anything about Batwoman," she lied easily, "I was taken by surprise and left in the bathroom while she took care of the clown."

Janet chuckled in disbelief, "I find it hard to believe that one of my best students could be taken by surprise."

"Would you stop saying that!" Sylvia begged, "I was never your best student. You were always yelling at me demanding me to be faster, stronger. That's what makes a good warrior, right sensei? That's the belief that was instilled in all your students at the dojo –"

"Oh, no, Sylvia not you," Janet insisted, "That's what made you so different from all my other students. You respected the mind over the body because you believed that even the strongest man could be defeated by the smartest. Henri always believed your mind was the strongest he'd seen at our dojo your body just needed to catch up – and it still does."

Sylvia was stunned to hear that name from Janet. That mysterious older man from her childhood and their monthly weapon sparring, how could she ever forget him?

"You could have been great Sylvia," she continued, "You still can be. We can begin training immediately. Be here by six o'clock sharp tomorrow morning."


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N: Hello beloved readers! Thank you for sticking around and for: favoriting, following, and reviewing. **

CHAPTER 23

"Oh, this is ridiculous," a voice muttered followed by an aggrieved groan.

Sylvia gazed at her pained face through the clean bathroom mirror wanting to laugh at her wonky patch up work on her ribs but couldn't find the energy to change her facial expression. Janet said they would talk about self-healing next week and Sylvia was looking forward to it. The last thing she wanted to do was return to Bruce's place and ask Alfred if he could wrap her bruised ribs. Somehow she knew this would not be first time she left her teachers class bruised and in pain. Sylvia grimaced again before turning from the mirror and flicking off the lights entering the bedroom that had once belonged to Marcus. Call her sentimental but Sylvia wanted to keep a place where she could go in case she needed a place to go and affordable on her salary. Marcus' apartment fit the bill. It was inconspicuous enough and the neighbors kept mostly to themselves.

Sylvia had just opened the fridge to fix herself a sandwich when there was a knock at the door. Placing the salami and cheddar cheese on the counter, Sylvia headed to the living room and peaked into the front door peephole relieved her suspicions were right before opening the door to allow her guest in.

"Hi, Lucius," she greeted with a wide smile.

Lucius Fox returned her greeting in kind before stepping through the open door. The smartly dressed business man observed the living room finding it surprisingly lived-in. There were sneakers left next to the couch, tv remote left on the coffee table, and from what he could see through the open bedroom door the sheets on the bed were rumpled. Everything looked like it had just been dusted in the living room, too.

"Have you been staying here," Lucius asked before following his host into the kitchen.

"Not till this week actually," she answered offering Lucius a seat at the small dining table.

It was already Thursday but for Sylvia it felt like it was going incredibly slow. The Joker's attack on her felt like it was eons ago rather than just six days. She had been working with Janet for three days straight and Janet was giving her a harsh refresher course. At the pace they were going Sylvia thought she would be back to her old physical level faster than she could have ever anticipated.

"I come here every morning before going into work," she explained meanwhile making their sandwiches. "I've started working out this week every morning and it helps having this place close by to the gym and work."

Lucius nodded in understanding before gratefully accepting the sandwich from Sylvia's hands.

"Thank you very much."

"You're welcome, Lucius. It's the least I can do after you drove all the way over here to meet with me," she said with a grateful smile.

"It was no trouble. There is hardly traffic going this direction. It's going back south that's trouble," he chuckled before taking a bite.

"Regardless," Sylvia insisted, "Thank you. Now, I'm guessing from the lack of word on the subject from my boss and Bruce that everything went smoothly back at _GT _headquarters on Friday?"

Lucius nodded wiping his mouth with a napkin and swallowing what he had before answering, "As smoothly as one could hope. The police let me through with very little fuss and I was able to collect everything I needed to."

Sylvia nodded and was very relieved.

"And from what Mr. Wayne told me after a meeting yesterday morning," Lucius continued, "the Joker has not mentioned you at all in his meetings with his psychiatrist."

"Bruce told me he paid a visit to Arkham Asylum," Sylvia replied, "I was very happy to hear that Joker no longer fixated on me but it seems he is now mentioning Batwoman. Bruce couldn't find out to what extent. The doctor was very reluctant to speak to him as Bruce and especially as Batman and they won't let him see Joker. Not even Gordon could set up a meeting time. They're becoming very hush-hush over there at Arkham."

"Hopefully this means the Joker will forget all about you," Lucius stated going back to his lunch.

Sylvia finished off her sandwich recalling her and Lucius' conversation. It was hard not to wonder about the future. Joker could break out of Arkham again and if he did to what extent would the madman go to find the Batwoman? A costumed vigilante that Sylvia swore she would never become again. Would he forget about her? Perhaps he would go after Sylvia again? Or maybe he would take his madness to all of Gotham again and then what? Bruce would swoop in to save the day. He would take on the Joker again…by himself.

No, don't even think about it, Sylvia thought to herself. It was a one off thing; a novel performance not an every weekend show. Gotham did not need another vigilante.

"It's been twenty years since I had a grilled cheddar and salami sandwich," Lucius chuckled taking a sip from the bottle of water Sylvia had supplied him with.

Sylvia laughed along with him, "Well then Lucius I think you're going to have to come by more often."

The two laughed together before going back to their homemade breakfast. Lucius looked up at the young woman across from him spotting the end of an elastic bandage sprouting out from beneath her armpit. That would explain the bulkiness beneath her shirt.

"What happened there?" he asked gesturing with his eyes toward Sylvia's ribs.

Looking down Sylvia saw the bandage immediately and sighed; her shoulders slumping.

"God damn it!" She blurted in agitation. "I just secured these less than 15 minutes ago."

"Why would you need your ribs wrapped," Lucius inquired looking concerned.

"I told you, I've been working out this week."

"What workout would leave you with bruised ribs?"

Sylvia even winced when she stated, "Sparring."

She knew how it made Lucius feel when he knew things that Bruce did not.

"Mr. Wayne assured me that you were not taking self-defense classes."

"Well, he would have…because he doesn't know," Sylvia said waiting to see Lucius' reaction.

Surprisingly enough Lucius was not angry or resistant he just asked, "Is this you telling me you want the suit back?"

"No," she answered confidently, "absolutely not. Don't mistake my taking martial arts lessons again to mean that. That is the last thing I need. No – I am just taking these classes to protect myself. Gotham is a dangerous place especially when you are in the spotlight."

Lucius nodded but something inside told him otherwise.

"Let me help you re-wrap them," Lucius offered with Sylvia readily accepting.

Although having no medical background, Lucius had observed before and with Sylvia's guidance they had her ribs tightly wrapped in no time. Lucius left Sylvia to straighten herself out when his phone buzzed in his pocket. It was an alarm he set personally to alert him to any big news announcements. Right now it looked like he should tune in to GCN.

"Ms. Juarez may I turn on your television," he asked politely not letting the panic he was feeling taint his voice. His eyes scrambled around the room in search for the remote to find it resting on the far edge of the coffee table between the couch and television.

"Of course, Lucius," she replied, "Make yourself at home."

The TV turned on without delay and Lucius switched the channels to the local news station. Jack Ryder, the charming newly instated Gotham news anchor, sat professionally behind the traditional rounded desk looking serious as he read off the report about the outbreak which had occurred last night.

"Although you should probably start heading back to the office…" Sylvia trailed off as she saw the headline on the TV below Ryder. "Not another one," groaned the young woman looking defeated.

Arkham Asylum just could not keep its patients inside. This escapee had been at the asylum for a very long time but not always as a patient. He was one of Bruce's first entanglements and it occurred before Sylvia knew him personally. His name was Dr. Jonathan Crane or more commonly known as the Scarecrow.

"For being a place for loonies, Arkham is crazy easy to get out of – pun intended," Sylvia commented while Lucius was grabbing his coat from the entrance rack.

"I think I will be heading out now, Ms. Juarez," he said pulling on his coat.

Sylvia opened the door for her friend before saying, "It looks like he escaped sometime last night."

Lucius paused in his steps looking at a contemplative Sylvia.

"Bruce didn't come in till close to six this morning. I don't think he'll be coming into work today or at least not for that kind of work," she finished with a smile that did not quite reach her eyes.

"Thank you for letting me know," he told her returning her strained smile, "And for the breakfast."

"You're welcome, Lucius," Sylvia replied, "and please be careful."

"You too, Ms. Juarez," he nodded before taking off for the elevator.

Quietly closing the door, Sylvia let herself lean against it observing the studio apartment and hearing the television in the background still talking about the escaped patient.

"I have a bad feeling," she whispered to no one.

One week later…

An anonymous tip phoned in to the police led Bruce to cut dinner short and to an abandoned warehouse on the edge of the narrows. It was left behind by a distribution company that employed nearly 700 people. Now it stood silent a remnant of the past; a reminder of better days when companies did not leave in search for cheaper labor to other countries. The work of Wayne Enterprises – of his parents – kept companies here and the employment rates at an all-time high. Yes, those were better days.

Batman returned to the present scouting the area for an hour before deciding to move in. No one had gone in or out of the warehouse. The building and the surrounding areas were quiet. Not even the ever-present hum of vehicles on the highways could be heard from out here. He needed to see what was inside. Crane could be using the facility to house his drugs. His mind made up, Bruce landed on the roof of the building and silently lifted a glass panel from the sun roof and jumped in through there. That was when everything stopped going according to plan. The panel slammed closed behind him followed by a sound that resembled a suction cup being pulled off a surface. It was coming from all the windows. Obviously the place had been rigged to trap the Batman. Which meant the anonymous tip was intended for him.

Then everything was silent again. However, Bruce was no longer inside a warehouse nor was he a thirty year old man. He was in the alley way behind the Monarch Theater with his parents being held at gun point by a drug addict who thought he had no other choice but to mug people to afford another hit and like every time he thought of this horrific night, the first bullet went into his father followed by his mother who was making too much noise from telling her son to run. Eight year old Bruce stood in front of the man who just murdered his parents trembling in fear with tears in his eyes and on his face. Bruce looked down at his feet to see himself standing in a pool of blood. The trembling became worse. Suddenly, a soft chuckle began to come from the addict holding the gun. It increased in volume to a full on laughing cackle. Bruce looked up only to find the maniac face of the Joker had taken the place of the previous murderer.

He was no longer standing in the pool of blood left by his parents. The blank faces looking up at him now were of Sylvia and Gordon. Anger clouded his vision and he drew a fist back feeling satisfaction when it made contact with the Joker's painted face. Joker was thrown back into a trash bin behind him and crumbled to the floor. Bruce looked down at the bodies only to find them gone. He looked back up and found himself behind the observation glass of an interrogation room in the GCPD. Sitting there handcuffed to a chair was Sylvia with Detective Bullock sitting across from her.

"Tell me who the Batman is," he shouted in her face.

"I don't know," she answered flatly her voice monotone.

"We know you know now tell me who he is," Bullock shouted again.

"I don't know," Sylvia repeated the same way as before.

"I will arrest you for harboring a fugitive and obstruction of justice," the Detective threatened with a hiss but Sylvia made no move to speak. "Who is the Batman?"

"I. Don't. Know," she replied slowly.

Harvey Bullock growled in frustration before he yanked her out of her seat by her collar.

"Tell me who he is," he demanded.

Something in Harvey's eyes changed and Bruce knew the Detective was at the end of his rope. He proceeded to slam Sylvia into the tough glass repeatedly yelling to tell him the truth.

"Bullock stop," Bruce yelled pounding on the glass. "I'm Batman!"

Bullock threw the struggling editor to the ground before climbing on top of her clamping his hands to her neck still repeating the question to her under his breath.

"Bruce Wayne is Batman!" Bruce tried again desperately before heading out the door of observation.

Bruce wrenched the door to the interrogation room open only to find himself transported once again to what looked like a sterile looking room in a hospital. He spots Crane standing menacingly in a corner of the room but dressed in his old doctor's uniform. In front of him instead of seeing Bullock's dark brown hair and overweight body he sees greasy green hair.

"Get away from her," Bruce commanded pulling Joker off of Sylvia.

He held him by his collar against the tile wall the psychopath looking as nonchalant as ever.

"She wouldn't tell us who you are," he said with a bloodied sharp razor in his hand.

Bruce looked back to where Sylvia had been lying moments before. She was sitting now in the same spot with her legs curled up to her chest rocking back and forth in a puddle of blood. Her patient garb was covered in it.

"She reacted quite typically to my toxin," Scarecrow revealed from his corner but Bruce continued towards Sylvia.

She kept repeating one word, whispering it to herself. His gloved fingers touched her shoulder but got no reaction from her.

"Sylvia," he called out to her softly.

"Batman," she mumbled, "Batman."

This was the word she kept repeating; a side effect of Crane's fear toxin. This was the identity of her ultimate fear. Tears gathered in Bruce's eyes as he tried to get her to look at him. He gently pulled her face up and with a surprised gasp fell back. Bruce discovered the source of her bleeding. The corners of her mouth had been brutally ripped apart into a twisted form of a smile.

"Batman," she whispered again her form trembling in fear and her wound moving grotesquely with every word.

The masked man scrambled onto his feet forceful sobs racking his body.

"Do you like the improvements we've made," Crane's flat professional tone asked.

Suddenly a sharp pain hit his abdomen and he was jolted from the frightening world his mind created under the influence of Crane's toxin. He looked down at himself and found the injection with the antidote in his fist and the needle in his stomach. Bruce's body was overtaken by jolting waves of shock. The billionaire laid there as his body recovered.

It would be hours before he was able to gain enough control over his body to leave the warehouse he had entered and even more to get to headquarters. He barely had enough strength to get inside before he collapsed onto the moving platform. That was how Alfred found him, his charge lying in a pool of his own vomit. It was almost five in the morning.

**A/N: What did you think? Tell me in a review! :D  
**


	24. Chapter 24

**A/N: Okay so I just got back from my weekend at Comic-Con and I got some major inspiration for this story. I know it's been a long time and I give my sincerest apologies for taking a break for so long. I'm just trying to recover from some things and get my passion for writing back. Thanks to everyone who fav'd and follow'd and a very special thanks to those who review'd and PM'd me because your constructive criticisms, advice, and positive support will hopefully make this story better along the way. Thank you and enjoy!**

James Gordon sat in his office at the GCPD looking over files and planning with a few of his most trusted colleagues over the events of a week ago when Crane had escaped. Detectives were still at Arkham trying to decipher how Scarecrow got a hold of his makeshift shank and his wonderful fear gas. Meanwhile, Gordon was having others working out where he could or would go. So far there was nothing to point them in any definitive direction. The meeting was interrupted by Gordon's desk phone ringing.

"Gordon," he greeted customarily.

"Commissioner, Ms. Juarez is here to see you," Paula from the front desk informed him.

"Thank you," he said before hanging up.

It took him a few seconds to realize who Ms. Juarez was. As Gordon pondered why Sylvia would be coming to visit him here, he excused himself from his detectives and headed down to the entrance. Sylvia stood with a paper bag in hand and a hesitant smile. From the way the police were shouting and running around Sylvia knew they were still in full mode from Scarecrow's escape.

"Hey Jim," she waved.

"Vee, shouldn't you be at work," Gordon wondered aloud.

Sylvia waved his question aside asking, "Does the Commissioner of police have time to spare for a quick drink with a friend?"

Gordon looked around at the obvious turmoil that was happening around him before turning back to his friend.

"This isn't the best time, Vee," he spoke truthfully rubbing the back of his head. "And I'm on the clock."

He knew Sylvia wouldn't come to his place of work for no reason, but there was no way he would be able to just up and leave the building.

"Don't worry, it's coffee," she compromised lifting the paper bag that Gordon had forgotten she was clutching.

Before she knew it, Jim was ushering her to the back where the employees had their lunch. Luckily it was not lunch time yet so there was no one occupying the space. Sylvia brought out the coffees placing one in front of Gordon and the other toward her. Dumping out the rest of the bags contents included sugar packets and small creamers. Each prepared their own to their individual tastes before approaching the conversation that was obviously trying to burst from Sylvia's mouth. Bless her heart she waited until Jim took his first sip before charging in with her first question.

"Any new developments on the Scarecrow?"

Jim nearly laughed at how reminiscent her tone was to when she used to ask him questions as a reporter.

"Off the record," he asked when Sylvia just smirked at him he continued, "No, not yet. We know the route he took out of the place. He left behind a line of security guards frightened to death."

Sylvia cringed at the images Jim's statement sprouted in her mind.

"My boys are doing the best they can but the warden is not cooperating, or if he is, he takes his time."

"You think he has something to do with it," Sylvia questioned taking a sip from her warm coffee.

"Doubt it the man is completely afraid that Crane is going to come after him next. Ever since the escape he's had guards surrounding him at all times of the day," he answered, "But right now everyone in that place is a viable suspect."

"What's been your experience with Scarecrow? I mean this isn't the first time he's escaped from Arkham," Sylvia pointed out.

"This is the second, well, now third time he's escaped. I personally have never been under his fear gas which I am very grateful for. And I have only had a few close encounters with him besides when arresting him. Our mutual friend is the one who typically deals with him," he explained putting his now empty cup to the side. "When he's escaped, he usually just sold his drugs out on the streets to unsuspecting buyers _and _sellers watching them suffer under his hallucinogen and eventually die. So far there have not been any reports of that happening just yet."

"I'm guessing he's not concerned about making a profit," Sylvia surmised.

Gordon shook his head agreeing with her statement before divulging, "He has a fascination with fear and the affects it has on the mind."

"Ah, that makes sense and completely explains why he dispersed his gas in the narrows a year ago," she expressed taking the last sip of the now cold coffee.

"He didn't do that alone," Gordon whispered, "Some of the details of that night have not been…reported."

"By you?" Sylvia asked mimicking his volume, "Purposely?"

"For the safety of the people we decided that it was a good idea to let them believe that Crane worked alone," admitted Gordon watching his friend's reaction.

"It wouldn't be the first time the GCPD withheld information from the public," she commented and it was her subtle way, of letting Jim know she did not judge his decision.

Jim's small smile let her know he understood what she meant.

"Who was pulling Crane's strings?" She asked eagerly. Sylvia always liked a good story.

"I never found out," Jim answered, "That was another reason why the public could not be told because the only person who knows the answer to that question is our mutual friend."

Sylvia knew where her next stop was. But first, she should probably make an appearance at work.

"And how is he doing, Vee," Gordon questioned.

The young woman didn't know how to answer that question. From Gordon's wording, he was not asking about Joker's attack on her.

"As far as I know, Bruce is…fine?" she hesitantly answered.

"Really? I was worried about him. We had a brief meeting and he took off to look into an anonymous tip and he never reported back."

"This is news to me," Sylvia expressed truthfully then chewing restlessly on her lip. "Where was he going?"

"Down to that abandoned distribution factory off of Miller road. We got a tip that Crane was hiding out there," Gordon explained.

"I'm sure he's fine," she assured confidently, "He has an antidote to Crane's toxin, doesn't he?"

"Yeah and it wouldn't be like him not to take the necessary precautions."

Sylvia nodded in agreement hoping with all her heart that Bruce really was okay.

"I'll go tonight and see if I can figure out whom Crane's previous employer was. That may shed some light on where Crane could be," Sylvia uttered but Gordon was already shaking his head before she finished.

"He's dead," he told her, "He was in the subway when it crashed."

"Oh," was her response to the news, "Either way I'll look into it and let you know what I find."

After that, Jim and Sylvia said quick goodbyes and they both went back to their jobs. The offices of the _GT _were pretty mellow considering there were three psychos running loose in their fair city. These days Sylvia consistently found herself being asked about the "connections" she possessed. Sure she could probably give them away but then where would the lesson be in that. After all, a journalist never reveals her sources.

At the end of her work day, Sylvia went straight to Batman's HQ to look through the files Bruce had there. She closed the storage unit behind her before pressing the button for the bottom to descend. There was a faint smell of cleaning solution in the air. It was refreshing. When the platform touched ground Sylvia made the discovery that Alfred had cleaned the entire vicinity. Although Alfred never let a place get dirty the fact that he had felt the need to clean the place set off an alarm in Sylvia's head. What if Bruce had been hurt?

She pushed her worries aside and headed toward the cabinets to begin her search. Lucky for her, Bruce believed in having hardcopies of everything. He had files on everyone Batman related. Some were thicker than others. And of course they were organized alphabetically bless Alfred's heart. Sylvia smiled to herself as she reached for Dr. Crane's file. On the cover page were all the basic information like Crane's physical appearance, his other aliases, and, the section Sylvia was after, his known associates. However, the first name listed there threw Sylvia off her track. There had to be a mistake.

Going back to the cabinet she targeted the letter 'D' lucky for her the only two people in that section were Harvey Dent and her intended. She carefully pulled out the folder finding it heavier than she had expected; though, she had not anticipated this person would be in Bruce's files to begin with.

It was Alfred's entrance a few minutes later that interrupted Sylvia's search through her attained files. She had many questions and was hoping Alfred could answer a few but the butler's anxious expression kept her silent.

"Ms. Sylvia, what are you doing here?"

That was not what Sylvia was expecting from Alfred. Whatever had him worried must be serious for him to pass his custom greetings.

"I'm looking for information on Crane," Alfred was already speaking over her before she could finish her reply.

"You shouldn't be here."

"Okay, Alfred you're scaring," Sylvia voiced.

"Ms. Sylvia, please listen to me carefully," Alfred pleaded, "I need you to go to the penthouse and stay there. I will explain everything to you once I am able but Master Bruce is on his way here and if he sees you –"

"He's the one who brought me here –"

"Master Bruce had a run in with Dr. Crane's toxin last night," the older man interjected. "That is why you _need _to leave. I'm afraid that if he sees you here now he will make a mistake –"

"But Alfred –"

The two fell silent when they heard the door of the storage unit slam closed. It was too late. Bruce stepped off the descending platform looking exhausted but his expression blank and his eyes hard.

"What are you doing here, Sylvia?"

Sylvia's mind went blank even with all the questions in her head she couldn't think of a single way to answer his question. This was how she got when she was speaking to Batman and she had feeling that's exactly who she was speaking to.

"I – uh I came to look through files and see if I could…find information on Crane for Gordon," she stuttered.

Sylvia Juarez stuttered! And she was afraid. What on earth could she have done to warrant this behavior from Bruce?

"You can't be here," he stated firmly.

"Okay if one more person tells me that I can't be here –"

"You need to leave," he interjected harshly. His words and tone took Sylvia completely by surprise and she concluded that for now she should just do as Bruce said.

"Fine, I'm leaving," she said, "We'll discuss this when you're in a better mood and back at the Penthouse."

"No, Sylvia," added Bruce in a voice very reminiscent to the Batman.

"Master Bruce, please," Alfred quipped but was denied when Bruce threw him a dark look.

Bruce turned back to the woman in front of him who looked utterly confused.

"You need to leave," he repeated to her.

In the silence that followed Sylvia attempted to read between Bruce's words for anything that would explain his behavior but she could find nothing. It was his repeated command however that left her with a heavy feeling in the pit of her stomach.

"What exactly are you asking of me, Bruce," she asked carefully and calmly.

"You can't live with me anymore," was his answer, "It's for the best."

He turned away from her as if that would end the discussion. Did he know her at all?

"What the fuck happened last night!" she shouted obviously acting calmly wasn't going to get her anywhere besides out the door. "We had dinner and everything was fine!"

"It is none of your concern –"

"Oh, but it does concern me Bruce," she argued, "I think I deserve a _very _detailed explanation as to why the sudden break up!"

Sylvia was met with silence and a great view of Bruce's back. She was afraid he was going to ignore her request when he finally spoke.

"Last night I went to look into a tip the police had received anonymously," he explained with his back still turned, "I had a feeling it was a trap but there was no way I could have predicted the improvements Crane made to his toxin. It's stronger and even with the antidote it took longer for me to recover from it. The experience made me realize the danger I am selfishly putting you in everyday –"

"Oh my – Are you kidding me!" Sylvia groaned feeling a headache coming on.

"And it's not fair of me –" Bruce continued finally turning to face her.

"I'm not as fragile as you think –" Sylvia argued back.

"It's the truth Sylvia whether you want to believe it or not! You could have been seriously hurt by that masked woman –"

"That was – Ugh," she shouted frustrated beyond belief. In all her anger she almost gave herself away. She had to calm down. "You are making a huge mistake. Huge! You would end this, you would end what we have on the bases of what you _think_ may happen," Sylvia asked incredulously, "Am I that worthless to you?"

Bruce looked absolutely torn, "I wouldn't know what to do if I lost you, if something happened to you because of me."

And that was it. Sylvia could tell him anything; that she had picked up on her self-defense classes again, it was her in that Batsuit that took care of Joker but something told her that would only make things worse. Everything that went through her mind as an argument was only going to make things worse. Words are cheap, Sylvia would have to show him but for now she would let him win this battle.

"Then, you already lost me, Bruce," she proclaimed attempting to cling to her composer. There was still something she needed to ask.

Alfred kept looking like he wanted to interfere but was at a loss. She retrieved her things to leave before turning to Bruce.

"I just have one question for you Bruce and then I am out of your life," she promised holding up the folder in question, "why do you have a folder on Henri Ducard? How do you know him?"

The billionaire's brows furrowed in confusion, "How do you –?"

"God dammit, Bruce just answer the question," she demanded feeling her resolve slipping.

"He was my mentor," he revealed, "Those years I was gone from Gotham he took me in and trained me in the ways of the League of Shadows."

"League of Shadows? Those were the people you said were trying to destroy Gotham," she recalled still not comprehending where Ducard fit in.

"They believed Gotham was a forsaken city that could not be saved regardless of the things 'misguided idealists' like my parents did," he said losing himself in memories from his past, "It was not until the night the League struck using Crane's fear gas that Ducard revealed his true name to me. Räs al Ghul was the leader of the League of Shadows. The man I thought was my friend turned out to be my worst enemy."

So many questions answered – so many more to ask. Sylvia knew who to ask.

"Thank you," she voiced sincerely before heading toward the elevator. Every step she took diminished Alfred's hope of them reconciling.

As hard as it was for Sylvia to walk away her mind kept telling her that there was nothing left to be done. This was Bruce's reality. He believed so completely that he was the danger surrounding Sylvia and if that is what Crane's toxin affirmed, then who the hell was she to argue? Looking to her left she spotted a trash bin filled with trash and at the top a bloodied cloth. Making sure neither Bruce nor Alfred was looking she grabbed it and carefully placed it in her purse. She rode back up to the surface and was walking to her car when she heard steps behind her.

"Ms. Sylvia," Alfred called and she turned around to see the butler looking utterly hopeless. "You mustn't listen to him when he's like this."

"It's alright, goodbye Alfred," she voiced robotically just trying to get somewhere alone so she could think.

"No, please Ms. Sylvia, you can't let it end this way," Alfred begged.

Sylvia had never heard Alfred sound so desperate and it made her heart ache. She was probably not the first woman to come and go from Bruce's life but probably the first to come this close to making it work. The truth was she didn't want to lose Alfred just because of Bruce's poor judgment.

"How about we grab some lunch next week? My treat," she said with a smile.

This statement alone gave Alfred hope. It told him that she was not giving up on Bruce. Not that easily at least.

"I would very much like that," he answered returning her smile.

"I'll see you, Alfred," she said before getting into her car and driving away.

Once on the highway, Sylvia placed an ear bud in her left ear listening to it ring once, then twice before someone picked up.

"Lucius Fox," a deep voice greeted on the other end.

"Hey, Lucius, it's Sylvia," she returned while holding the bloody cloth in her right hand. "What are you doing for lunch tomorrow? I may have something for you to look into. Oh, and by the way, this _is _me asking for the suit back."

**A/N: Yes, we will be seeing Batwoman again very soon which will be exciting for those of you who have asked me about it. Like I said Comic-Con was exactly what I needed for this story and my others that are in the works ;) Please keep reviewing and messaging and I will try to get another chapter up before the week is out. Thanks! **


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